Roses that Bloom in the Dark
by cally777
Summary: Sinister forces are working to undermine the Rumble Roses tag tournament, held for the first time on the Florida beaches. Reiko and Dixie have more difficult choices to make than which swimsuit to wear. The sequel to A Rose By Any Other Name.
1. Enter the Dragon

Roses That Bloom in the Dark

Thanks to Konami for creating _Rumble Roses_; they own the rights, not me. The long-awaited sequel to _A Rose By Any Other Name_ starts here. I will sometimes publish more than one chapter at a time, as the main body of the story is already written. However I will be editing and working on the incomplete sections, hopefully to keep up a schedule of weekly instalments, and to take into account your reviews.

* * *

Chapter One: Prelude: Enter The Dragon

"Time to wake up."

The voice came out of darkness so thick it seemed supernatural. If you were one of those people unfortunate enough to be afraid of the dark, you might have been hoping that blinking and waiting would allow your eyes to become accustomed to the gloom. But this darkness remained like an emanation from the abyss, murk from the deepest ocean trench. Until it began getting _behind _your eyes and into your mind. A darkness that would send you mad eventually. After you'd screamed and screamed and screamed …

And then, as if in pity for a soul lost and insane, someone struck a match. In that primeval non-light it flared like a supernova, flame roaring into the silence, then flickering and sputtering, the last hope of the hopeless. The dying light was drawn upwards, casting a harsh illumination over the speaker's face.

Almond eyes. Dark brown hair falling carelessly over precise, well-moulded features. The moribund flame had a reddening effect on her tanned skin. Beneath arched brows, the eyes glinted as if lit by tiny hell-fires.

It was a beautiful, evil face.

Abruptly the match was snuffed out, and only a cigarette glow remained. The sound of someone inhaling sharply, then exhaling slowly, languorously.

The voice spoke again. It had a husky deepness, unmistakably Latin in origin. Each word was caressed lovingly, every syllable savoured.

"Come on, wake up, _amiga_."

There was a low moan, almost an animal noise. It did _not _come from the speaker, who now resumed her monologue.

"Yes, that hurt, didn't it? You _are_ awake, and this isn't a nightmare. At least …" here there was a snigger, "not one you're going to rouse from any time soon."

There was a pause, in which the respiration of two persons could be heard. One much louder than the other; hard, fast pants as if the breather was suffering from some great tension or anxiety of mind. The other the calm in and out susurration of someone smoking.

Eventually the speaker took a deep puff on her cigarette, pausing before exhaling as if in thought.

"Its almost time for you to go back into the ring. But for a change you won't be all on your own. We'll be fighting together: against Makoto Aihara and that peasant from the steppes, Aigle. They shouldn't be too much trouble for you, but just in case, I've arranged things so we can't possibly lose."

The speaker sighed. "Meanwhile there's just a little time to talk. I do enjoy our chats, because I believe that somewhere in that deeply disturbed mind of yours, you're aware of what I'm saying." Again the chuckle. "Even if you don't reply too much. Now the _other, _she gives me no clue that anything's going on in there. Might as well be talking to a post. Whereas here …" another deep, reflective sucking in and out of the smoke, "…here I can expose my real self to someone who truly cares." These last words had more than a touch of ironic intonation.

"Now I know you think I'm teasing, but you don't realise how good it is to get away from …" a note of bitter contempt entered the voice "that superficial wise-cracking comedy act I've had to put on." A pause, then with a half-snarl, "It was that damn private school that started it." With startling abruptness, the voice changed into a faultless imitation of a plummy English accent. "I say, have you finished polishing the dorm floor yet, senorita? And while you're down there, can you please kiss my arse?"

There was a spitting sound, and the voice resumed its Latino accent. "These upper-crust _ingleses_ are such original wits. And they accuse the Germans of having no sense of humour!"

Something of the jauntiness returned. "Well I guess they took too long to discover the scientific and medical genius in their midst. And by then it was too late. Too late for me and …" here a note of creamy satisfaction came over the voice, "…too late for them. The outbreak of botulism wiping out half the Fourth Form … so unfortunate."

Another sigh. "Merely a small example of my burgeoning talent. Now you, _mia querida amiga,_ you will have the privilege of witnessing the perfection of my master plan at first hand. Beginning with the downfall of the person you most care about." An unpleasant laugh. "Yes, the Rumble Roses Tournament is where its going to start. Those muscle-bound, preening bunch of _poseurs_ are going to pay for all the times they've humiliated me."

The speaker was overcome by a fit of coughing. After it subsided, she continued, "Such a shame even I can't be the best at everything. Perhaps I should advise myself to quit smoking." A snigger, and the sound of deep inhalation indicated this self-diagnosis wasn't to be taken too seriously. "Ah well – the two of us together will be enough to fix things pretty good. Then we'll show them what they're really like - what we're _all_ really like."

The speaker loomed forward in the darkness, sucking strongly and greedily on her cigarette. The glow lighting her face shone faintly on a pale visage only inches away. Twin fires reflected in eyes like a wounded animal's.

"And after that, they'll be reduced to grovelling at my feet. Just like you, _mia querida_. Knowing every minute who is the cause of their degradation. Knowing that they'll be entirely helpless to resist me. How do you think they'll like that, eh?"

There was a pause; then there came an inhuman snarling sound, the noise of a wild beast crying for prey just out of its reach.

It was not enough to drown out the peals of mocking laughter that followed. On and on they went, until the cigarette had died, and the awful blackness had returned.

Out of the utter dark, the voice spoke once again. "And the Rose I will most enjoy trampling into the dirt is _Reiko Hinomoto."_


	2. Island Life

Chapter Two Island Life

Leaving her bike propped against a mangrove, Reiko walked to the edge of the calm, tropical sea. For a while she strolled carelessly, playing a game with the gentle waves, trying to retreat before they caught and splashed her. Tiring of this, she stopped and began an exercise routine. The golden light of the rising sun gleamed from her perspiring body, as her efforts became more vigorous. Soft, angelic features, loose brown hair blowing in the dawn wind, well-proportioned breasts, thighs, hips and limbs could not completely disguise the whip-cord like muscles beneath the attractive frame of one of the fiercest competitors in world wrestling.

Reiko wound down her routine, went to sit facing the brilliant blue of the sea, resting her chin on her hands, as she contemplated the horizon through half-closed eyes. In a little while, she discovered a large conch shell nearby. Holding it to her ear, she listened for the sound like a distant tide to combine with the real plashing of the waves close by. It seemed to be murmuring of secrets, which might be revealed if only the listener could …

"Taking it easy, huh?" Reiko's head jerked up from where it had fallen forward. Still in a half-doze, she blinked at the figure in front of her, framed against the bright sunlight, standing legs apart, hands on hips, long shadow falling partly across her.

The speaker reached down and gripped Reiko's hands with her own, pulling her gently to her feet.

"Can't have you slacking off now, can we? Not when the tournament's about to start." A chuckle. "I'm jokin'. A bit of R and R before the heat's on won't do either of us any harm."

Reiko found herself looking into a pair of eyes as blue as the ocean behind them. With a smile she said, "You startled me. And I wasn't really slacking. I just needed some time on my own to …"

"To doze off? Why sugar, if I'd known that I would have left you on your ownsome. But now I'm here we may as well …"

Reiko loosely draped her arms around the speaker's neck. "I know what you're going to suggest. And there isn't time for it."

"Darn, you got me pegged! Me and my one track mind!" Blonde tresses fell forward to brush against Reiko's dark brown shock of hair. "Reckon if we got the exclusive use of this prime Florida beach front, we should make the most of it. Ain't nobody around for miles to see nuthin'."

"That may be so. But there isn't going to be anything for anyone to see today. I promised to meet Makoto in the mall on the mainland. I'm already behind schedule." Reiko disengaged firmly from the embrace.

"Aw shucks, Reiko! You kin let her wait a li'l, cain't you? She thinks ya walk on water anyways, and she'll be real nice and polite about it like she always is."

"And that's exactly why I've got to be on time, Dixie." Reiko folded her arms and contemplated her companion with mild exasperation. "So as not to take advantage of her good nature."

"Hell, whatever! We've still got another day till the first round starts." Dixie Clemets batted away an invisible fly, with a look of resignation. While Reiko could have been mistaken for an actress or model, albeit a slightly short one, Dixie's profession was much easier to work out. Towering above Reiko at almost six feet, she could only be described as 'Amazonian', and her well-toned but voluptuous appearance would probably inspire someone to guess that she was a bodybuilder. But in all likelihood there would be no need to speculate. Dixie Clemets, defending World Wrestling Champion and three times Rose of Roses was famous far beyond the borders of her native Texas, and would have found it hard to walk down any street without being recognised and acclaimed.

Dixie's many fans would have been interested to know that her current attire was a light blue swimsuit with gold piping, just about managing to cover its wearer's modesty using the minimum possible amount of material, and making Reiko's red and white polka dotted bikini look conservative in comparison. Whether to keep off the sun, or to accord with her moniker of "Three Count Cowgirl", the Texan also had on a large, white ten-gallon hat, from beneath which her long, blonde hair fell freely over her shoulders.

"So," she continued, "does your busy schedule leave you enough time to hear about the match-ups?"

"Of course." Reiko wondered why Dixie hadn't immediately told her this news, considering their whole reason for coming to these islands off the coast of Florida was to enter the Rumble Roses Tag Team competition. "Is it a definite announcement?"

"Yup, this is straight from the horse's mouth as near as ya can get it," Dixie replied. "The official Rumble Roses website, in fact."

Reiko sensed that beneath her apparent ease of manner, something was troubling the Southerner. "Go on then, spit it out."

"Well we'll be first up to start the tournament," Dixie went on. "And we're paired against another Japanese wrestler – and Aisha."

Reiko was aware that Dixie was closely watching her reaction to this last piece of news. There was now a definite air of tension between the two women.

In a neutral tone, Reiko asked, "So who is this Japanese wrestler?"

Dixie appeared relieved not to have to deal with the subject of Aisha immediately. She said, "I was hoping you'd heard of her, because I sure ain't. She calls herself Benikage."

Reiko shook her head. "I don't know anyone by that name. Not amongst the top ranking Japanese league competitors."

"That's too bad. 'Cos I figured you might know something if anyone did. I cain't seem to find out anything on the net about her. Except that her stage name is …" Dixie hesitated, trying to get the pronunciation right, "Koo – noy –chee. I heard Aisha say it in a short interview."

"_Kunoichi._" Reiko repeated it with emphasis for Dixie's benefit. "That's an old Japanese word for a female ninja. And Benikage means 'Crimson Shade'. Or as you might say, 'Bloody Shadow'." Reiko shrugged. "So melodramatic."

"And 'Zero Fighter' isn't?" Dixie was teasing Reiko about her own appellation. "Gee, a real live ninja! Ya don't see that every day, fer sure."

Reiko made a dismissive gesture. "The ninja are extinct."

Dixie put on a high, sinister voice. _"Their fire has gone out in the universe. You, my friend, are all that is left of their religion."_ Reiko rolled her eyes. Dixie chuckled, "Sorry, Reiko, you know how much I _lurve_ that film."

Reiko shrugged again. "Maybe I know her by a different name. What does she look like?"

"It so happens I printed me a picture."To Reiko's amusement, Dixie removed her hat, and produced a small clipping from it, which she handed to Reiko. "But I dunno if that'll help. She wears a mask."

Examining it, Reiko saw a picture of a slender, dark haired woman, somewhat older than herself, wearing a tight-fitting, almost see-through, mesh bodysuit. But the most striking thing about her was that the lower half of her face was completely concealed by a mask representing a dog's snarling mouth and jaws. In contrast to this ferocious image, the eyes above it were soft brown, with long lashes.

"Gruesome!" Reiko grimaced. Then, with conviction: "I've never wrestled against her in Japan."

"You're sure?" Dixie raised an eyebrow, questioningly.

"I'd know from her eyes." Reiko's mother, the famous Kamikaze Rose, had once said "_Always look directly into your opponent's eyes. Only then will you discover her true worth and determination."_

Dixie nodded. "I bet you would at that." Then, incredulously: "What _is _that about anyway? Who the hell wants to look like a freakin' dog?"

"I don't know." Reiko sounded like her mind was on other things. Nevertheless, after a pause, she said, "Perhaps to represent loyalty and faithfulness combined with ferocity to her enemies."

"Faithfulness? To whom? Her partner? Aisha? That sure is a big joke! She's gonna be faithful to that trashy wh…" Dixie's voice trailed off as if realising she'd said too much.

"That trashy whore, you were going to say?" Reiko folded her arms. The tension between them was right back. "Not a nice thing to say about your ex-tag partner. Pretty intense and personal." Dixie said nothing but looked increasingly uneasy. "You never told me exactly how you came to split up, what you quarrelled over." Reiko cocked her head on one side, watching her companion closely.

Dixie said, in a resigned voice, "Reiko, I was gonna tell you … eventually."

"Were you indeed?" The younger women sounded icy. Then she said, a little more gently. "You were lovers, weren't you, as well as partners?"

Dixie stared straight ahead. Quietly she said, "Yes, we were."

"Just like …"

"No! Not just like …" The Texan was animated now. "Reiko, its different with you."

"How is it?"

"I don't know, it just is." Dixie threw up her hands. "I told ya before, didn't I, it was all about competitiveness. She wanted to prove she was better than me."

"And she did that by – being unfaithful to you?" Reiko probed.

Dixie turned away from Reiko, hugging herself, and looking skywards. "That's a mild way o' putting it. See, Aisha, she didn't do anything by halves. So when she started – putting herself about – it was with 'most all of the Rumble Roses circuit that were that way inclined. And maybe one or two that weren't." Seeing Reiko's look of astonishment, she added, "The majority of whom are retired now, lest you should start wondering." Looking back at Reiko, the American continued, "When Aisha'd had enough of her – fun – she came and told me what she'd done."

"And then?"

"I told her, 'you wanna prove you're the best? Now's your goddammed chance.'"

"And so you fought?" Dixie nodded, and smiled grimly.

"And you won?"

The Texan's smile wore a little thin. "I handed her the beating of her life."

Reiko shuddered to think of what that meant. She had been on the wrong end of one of Dixie's "beatings" herself. She could only imagine how bad Aisha must have had it. Reiko tried to read Dixie's expression. What did she most fear to see revealed? Anger? Sadistic glee? Or their opposites, compassion and regret? Because those last two might mean that …

"Still I've got to give her credit," the Southerner was saying. "She didn't fold up easy." Shaking her head in wonderment. "Ain't nobody resisted my Double-Bridge Hold as long as she did. She must've been in awful pain, but she wouldn't cry out, just kept refusing to give in." Ruefully, she added, "But, of course, she hadta … eventually." Looking downwards. "Didn't think I'd ever see Aisha cry like a baby. Don't think I ever wanna see it again."

Reiko said, "She must have hated you so much after that."

Thickly, Dixie said, "No doubt she did." Then, with a poor attempt at a grin, "So now you know this is going to be one hell of a grudge match." She dabbed at one eye, perhaps to wipe away some perspiration.

Reiko put her arms on Dixie's shoulders, forcing the Texan to look at her. "And what about you, what do you think about her. Tell me."

Dixie hesitated for a long moment. In a hoarse voice, she said, "I don't hate her. I don't hate that crazy bitch." She pulled herself free of Reiko's grasp, turned and started walking up the slope of the beach.

Reiko stood staring after her.


	3. Shadow Run

Chapter Three Shadow Run

She had been born in darkness. After the warm, wet darkness of the womb, night welcomed her. Her parents, who would also be her teachers, had begun her life with this lesson. From now on, shadow would be her element; it was in the dark that she would truly live.

By the age of four, she could move through a pitch-black room, avoiding all obstructions in total silence.

By the age of ten she could cling to a sheer surface like a limpet, leap like a fish, strike with the speed and precision of a serpent.

Now she moved through the world like the shadow of a ghost, vanishing from the sight of all, until the moment came when she _chose_ to appear.

It had been six hours since she had infiltrated the outer defences of the underground complex. In the swamp above, the sun was at noon, but here on the third level, only eternal night reigned. It had been designed to confuse intruders and lead them to their deaths. It took no account of such as her.

There were _machines_ out there in the blackness, probing for her with laser beam eyes, listening with mechanical ears for the beat of her heart, so they could rip it out with metal fingers. Probing in vain. Her suit, provided by her masters and accessing a level of technology available to few, both camouflaged and shielded her, breaking up the patterns an artificial or human intelligence might recognise, muffling the pulsing of her blood from the most sensitive of microphones. Yet none of this would have been enough to save a normal human from a grinding, bloody end.

She moved swiftly, soundlessly across floors, walls and ceilings. Her awareness, developed beyond the dreams of all but a few from amongst the dull mass of humanity, reached out around her like a spider's web. With a sense almost lost since humans veered along the evolutionary path towards intelligence and away from animal instinct, she knew in total darkness the position of all objects around her. Enemies and death traps were located and evaded before they could harm her. When necessary, she could remain in perfect stillness, halting her respiration and slowing her heartbeat, until the danger had passed.

In these moments, she was happy. She had become one with the darkness. It had enveloped and cradled her.

A shadow has no shadow.

* * *

Clouds were covering the moon when she left the mouse-haunted, roach-infested motel on the edge of the Florida Everglades; she would need the remaining hours of darkness to travel undetected to her insertion point. The precise geographical coordinates were programmed into her satellite navigation device, but the need to negotiate the dense swamplands made it difficult to judge the exact time of arrival**. **She had hired a small skiff, gliding beneath the over-hanging mangroves and cypress trees with barely the faintest splash of a paddle. As expected, the only witnesses to her passage were the swamp animals; with their keen senses, alligators and snakes remained a more potent danger than any unlikely patrols.

The relatively low level of hazard gave her time to wonder about the oncoming mission, in particular the unusually accurate data concerning the target location. Given that the complex was concealed beneath the ground in the midst of thick jungle, it was difficult to see how it could have come to her masters' attention, except from someone on the inside. Yet she had been told nothing about an internal agent, though surely such a person would be a valuable source of information, perhaps more significant than anything she could discover by herself. How could this be?

She tried to dismiss the thought. It was not her place to question her mission objectives, only to carry them out. To be concerned with anything else was an unnecessary distraction. Her mind must be calm, her emotions under control. She had spent nearly a lifetime of effort trying to achieve this.

_But I've failed in this one thing, even if I succeed in all else. I still feel excitement, pain, loss, desire, regret. Why can I not be free?_

The outside of the complex appeared as only a few shacks in the heart of the swamp. Concealment was clearly a greater priority above ground than security. She rapidly circumvented the handful of guards in the guise of marsh denizens: ragged, bearded, dark-featured, in sweat-stained, grimy clothing clinging tight to their bodies. A ventilator shaft provided convenient access underground. It had almost been too easy.

Later the obstacles became greater. Laser grids blocking the duct, regular patrols of alert, well-trained guards, security cameras and microphones. The occasional guard dog. The last would have been the greatest threat of all, had it not been for her strange affinity with most animals, and especially canines. All these impediments were overcome without the need to resort to violence. _Violence is the last refuge of the careless and the desperate._

Then the seemingly insurmountable barrier. A security door to which no guard seemed to have the key or the ability to enter, and under such close surveillance that any attempt to open it by skill or force would have been instantly detected. The only possible approach to the door was from above, by way of the ceiling; but even this would be futile without some other means to open it.

She set herself to wait. Hooks on her palms and fingertips helped her to cling to a corner of the ceiling using a technique as old as the society which had given her birth. Years of training prolonged the time she could remain thus, but the strain on her muscles grew as the minutes passed. _Patience._

Suddenly the faint hiss of the door sliding open. She remained intent; the person about to exit must be someone of importance. In her current position it was almost impossible to use a camera, but she was trained to memorise faces exactly, then sketch them later.

To her great disappointment, the woman who emerged was wearing a wide-brimmed swamp hat, effectively concealing her features from an elevated viewpoint. She could only see that she had narrow hips outlined by a tight skirt with white gauze stockings. For a split second, she considered whether she should follow to get a better look, then reminded herself that the opportunity to gain egress might not come again. In an instant she had slithered across the ceiling, swinging herself down into the lift. And it was from here on that the real challenge began.

* * *

She had reached the point on the third level where security was increasing. This was not a cause for fear; instead she felt satisfaction that she was approaching her goal. Three deadly automatons, two laser defences and a poisonous trap were avoided and then – nothing. She was alone in a single corridor. For the first time since her insertion, the sense of pressure and danger had left her. Excitement gripped her beyond her ability to suppress. Was the moment of fulfilment, the object of all her efforts, finally at hand?

The corridor ended in a simple T-junction, with an equally straightforward choice. Right or Left? One way the path of righteousness, the other the left hand of the damned.

She chose the left.

The passage continued straight for ten yards. Ahead was a single door. A moment running her hands over it, lightly as a lover's touch, told her it was made of studded iron and locked. Its size, solidity and the presence of a large keyhole, instead of an electronic lock, all spoke to her that this was a dungeon. Who or what could be imprisoned here?

Picking the lock involved some inevitable noise, but the massive door seemed likely to muffle it. The lock was well oiled and felt as if it were frequently used. Any occupants must be visited often. In spite of her long training, she shivered. It was unlikely these visits were for pleasant purposes.

The mechanism turned with the faintest of clicks. Pressing herself close against the door, she eased it open the merest crack. The darkness was unbroken. She listened with an intentness that would have made the sound of a moth's wing deafening.

Someone was breathing at a level so shallow as to be barely audible, even by her. The person was almost completely motionless, but she still caught the faintest tinkling sound, the noise of an iron chain brushing against a wall, then being instantly stilled. Small clues gave her an almost complete picture of the room in the pitch black.

The cell was empty except for a single occupant, who was secured to the wall by a chain. Scent alone told her the prisoner was female, and of at least the age to menstruate. But there was something else that hinted of older corruption. The smell of rubber, probably PVC, which could only come from the woman's clothing. Uneasy thoughts flitted across her mind. Whips, dungeons, floggings, submission, masters, slaves. Some of these had not entered her world, but she had become aware of their existence. Others touched deeply upon her relationship with her superiors. She existed to follow orders, little else was allowed. This woman perhaps had experienced things forbidden to her. It both repelled and attracted her.

The door moved soundlessly on its hinges, as she widened it enough to slip through. The noise she made entering the room should have been completely undetectable to the normal human ear.

And then a change in the rhythm of the woman's breathing. It coincided exactly with her movement. She froze. She listened again. Realised what she had missed, because it was so unexpected as to be almost unthinkable.

The woman was suppressing her breathing using a technique taught only in the Takeo temple, and unlearnable below the Fifth Level of advancement. This was no mere toy or plaything, no helpless victim or slave. She was using a form of breath control few could emulate in an attempt to conceal her presence from the intruder in her room. An intruder who until now had evaded the most sophisticated attempts at detection but whom she was quite clearly aware of. And that could only mean …

Instead of fear, Benikage felt a kind of joy welling up inside. Here was someone with a sense akin to her own. Who knew what it was like to _feel_ the darkness. Who surely must know the loneliness of being different. Here at last was someone who might understand.

Could another of her sisterhood be present here? She must at least try to give the signal, and as long as she remained out of reach, she ought to be safe.

With infinite lightness, her foot tapped the ground. One short, two long, one short.

For a long instant, there was no response. Then she heard the movement of a chain, and realised a microsecond too late what it meant. Her hair trigger reflexes threw herself sideways just as the chain lashed towards her, wrapping itself around her arm. Then with a terrifyingly powerful jerk, she was dragged towards her assailant.

Before she could free herself, and with shocking suddenness, an arm had locked itself around her throat. An arm with a vice-like grip that was choking the life out of her. An arm of such strength it seemed beyond what was humanly possible.

For almost the first time in her existence, she felt entirely and pathetically helpless. Her body had been trained to stealth, not brute force. Even if this had not been so, the seemingly superhuman grip of her opponent would have been a match for all but the strongest using both of their arms together. In a cold sweat of primitive fear, she struggled to get free, knowing it was futile. The failure of her mission, and everything she had striven for, was imminent. Her death was a footnote in comparison.

Then her training reasserted itself. And the first rule and the last was: _in every situation, consider what actions you can and should take_. Her options were restricted, and only one course suggested itself. It might fail. But it was probably her only chance.

Her body grew limp, her breathing grew shallow and ended, her heartbeat ceased. For a while her opponent continued to squeeze her windpipe, either in a frenzy or to make quite sure she was dead. Then the stranglehold slackened, and the body was almost gently lowered to the floor. There were sounds of pawing, and snuffling like that of an animal.

A sighing noise. It could have been the last exhalation of a corpse, a final death rattle. But it was not. A fist slashed out, striking at a small area of the back of the neck, which if hit precisely would render a human unconscious or utterly dazed. A location about the size of a nickel in total darkness.

Benikage was _not_ dead, not quite. Her brain had almost gone too long without oxygen, even with her advanced control of respiratory and cardiac functions. She now took great breaths to realign her body's system, reawaken her heart. At the same time she struck again and again at her opponent. She _must_ _not_ be allowed to recover, to once more use her terrifying strength. Groans and whimpers told her the blows were hurting her unseen enemy, too dazed to fight back. Turning she performed a backwards drop kick with both feet slamming into her opponent's jaw. There was a soft sound, followed by what sounded to her sensitive ears like the fall of a great tree.

Then almost complete silence. The woman's breathing had become slow and laboured. She was unconscious. In a mirror of the previous scene, Benikage bent to examine her fallen foe. Searching fingers confirmed the woman was clad in rubber and made a new, significant discovery – she wore a mask!

In her heart, Benikage felt an ache of loss, like an echo of past disappointment. If only they could have avoided fighting! It seemed they might have shared so much. But this feeling was overwhelmed by a rising sense of exaltation, bordering on ecstasy. The presence of this woman was the kind of informational gold her masters had sent her to find. The pleasure she felt at the achievement of an important mission goal made all others seem pale in comparison, whether found in the arms of a lover, or the bosom of a friend. Dimly she was aware that this response was conditioned in her, and though she had never heard of Pavlov, her reaction to the stimulus resembled canine behaviour, spreading deep within her loins. _I have fulfilled my purpose! I am joyful!_

Still bathed in a warm glow of satisfaction, she automatically checked for other potentially valuable data. The mask was likely a parody of a demonic face, suggested by the rubber tail, forked at one end, which emerged from between the woman's buttocks. Moreover the chain used to attack Benikage had been torn from the wall in a feat of strength which would have seemed incredible had she not experienced it for herself. A second chain was still attached to the woman's other wrist.

A decision had to be made. She was permitted to break radio silence only in desperate circumstances. To report her discoveries and complete her mission, she must successfully return the way she had come. That must be done soon, before anyone found her unconscious victim and put the complex on full alert. But what of the other branch to the corridor? Could that be even more important?

It felt good to be using her own judgement. Her superior, she knew, would advise caution. Buoyed up by her success, Benikage was unable to avoid a feeling of impatience, and even faint contempt. Today she was the invincible Queen of the Shadows – there was nothing she could not do. Let them try to stop her!

* * *

*The ninja makes her entrance, if anyone was looking forward to that. Quite a different character to the one in my last story!*


	4. Milky Bar Kid

Chapter Four Milky Bar Kid

"Yeuk!" Makoto Aihara extracted a straw from her chocolate milk shake, and inspected it with disgust. "This shake is sour! It tastes horrible!"

Reiko eyed Makoto and her shake from across the table. After a little light shopping at the mall, they were refreshing themselves in a milk bar, part of the complex in one of Florida's fashionable coastal resorts. Like her compatriot Reiko, the Japanese Olympic medallist "Judo Babe" was in America to enter the Rumble Roses competition, including the tag team tournament. Previously on good terms, the two women had become even closer friends due to their shared interest in wrestling, and often met up to socialise and converse in their mother tongue.

"Take it back, then, Makoto-chan." Reiko sucked reflectively on her own strawberry shake. "I'm sure they'll give you another free of charge."

Makoto gave Reiko a worried look. "Do you think I should, Reiko-chan?" She gave a timid glance over her shoulder to where a formidable looking woman was polishing glasses. "Won't the proprietor be mortified at her failure and loss of face, and become angry?"

Reiko sighed. Like many Japanese, Makoto was perhaps excessively attached to the conventions and rituals of her society, and had a horror of giving offence. It didn't help that Makoto was so devoted to her training that she had little time to gain knowledge of the wider world. Reiko, on the other hand, had been brought up to have a more relaxed attitude, and sometimes she became impatient with her friend's over sensitivity.

"Remember you're in the USA now, not Japan. Americans always expect to be given the best service, and if they don't get it, they complain. You should do the same, while you're here at least."

Makoto uneasily adjusted the blue bows she wore in her straight, black hair. Unlike Reiko, who always dressed stylishly, Makoto usually stuck to traditional Japanese dress and coiffure; on this occasion she was wearing a purple kimono, newly purchased from a Japanese-themed shop in the mall. Makoto had been disappointed there were no pink ones, her favourite colour.

"I suppose you're right – although I could just buy another shake, I've plenty of money." Seeing Reiko's exasperated look, she added pleadingly, "Can you take it back for me, Reiko-chan, you're so much more confident?"

"Makoto-chan, you'll never become more assertive unless you do things for yourself!" Reiko sounded strict, then relented as she saw Makoto's downcast expression. "Very well, just this once."

"Thank you so much, Reiko-chan!" Makoto beamed with relief.

As Reiko expected, the bar woman was effusive in her apologies, and offered her not one but two complimentary shakes with some cookies to go. Reiko sat at the bar while the drinks were being mixed, and found herself looking round at the clientele. Most were typical tourist types. She gave a yawn, and was about to turn to pick up her tray of freebies.

Then Reiko noticed a woman sitting at the far end of the bar. She stood out from the tourists, partly by the way she was dressed in a high-necked blouse and a short, tight skirt which seemed more office wear than holiday garb; partly due to her rather prim manner, as if she felt the establishment was beneath her. As their eyes briefly met, the woman returned her glance in a strangely hostile manner, an unfriendly look that caught Reiko by surprise.

"Here are your shakes, madam, with my compliments. And can I say once again …" The apology went by Reiko; a little chill had started to run up her spine. But when she turned back again, the woman had put up one hand to the side of her face, obscuring it.

_Odd, _thought Reiko, before dismissing the incident. She had all manner of obsessed fans, some of whose behaviour was even more bizarre. For this outing she was disguising her appearance by wearing shades and a leather jacket with a turned up collar. Still it was possible that some stalker had recognised and followed her. Most of them were completely harmless.

"Wow, cookies!" Makoto chirruped delightedly, as Reiko returned to their table. Then, her face falling, "But I'm supposed to be in training, so perhaps I shouldn't …"

"Oh, go on, Makoto-chan!" Reiko bit into one cookie, waved another temptingly in her friend's direction. "You can spoil yourself on this one occasion."

"Mmmm, they do look good! Grandfather surely wouldn't mind if I just tasted one." The Judo Babe often referred to her _sensei _and trainer as if he were her conscience. On the other hand, as he had been unable to make the trip to America, Makoto was, at least partially, off the leash.

Reiko watched with amusement as Makoto munched her way through a second cookie. She said, "So how is your preparation for the tournament going?"

"_Genki_ _desu … _mmm … its going really well, Reiko-chan." Makoto paused reluctantly in the act of biting into the cookie. "Aigle has been taking me through some new endurance training techniques. I'm developing muscles in places I didn't realise." She demonstrated by flexing her arms sideways, elbows outwards, unconsciously projecting her small bust forwards. "I think I'm really coming into my proper growth now – what's wrong Reiko-chan?"

Reiko was spluttering into her shake. "Only a crumb in my throat, Makoto-chan! Please go on!"

"And, of course, we get on so well together, as if we've been friends for years. Aigle is so strong and wise. Its amazing how much you can learn from living in a yurt in the steppes of Mongolia. She often tells me, 'When in far country, Makoto and Aigle listen to voice of spirit wind, bringing us courage.' Isn't that beautiful?"

"Very." Reiko might have become bored with Makoto's frequent gushing references to her new partner, had she not suspected that her younger friend harboured stronger feelings for the Mongolian nomad than she realised. Reiko often teased Makoto about Aigle in the hope that the Judo Babe would eventually come to an awareness and resolution of the situation. She also prayed for her friend's sake that Aigle would be sympathetic. When interviewed, the nomad gave the impression of being upfront to the point of bluntness, and her description of her ideal love interest as "Strong warrior built like stallion" did not sound encouraging.

"And what about you, Reiko-chan?" Makoto's question made Reiko start; she'd been lost in thought. "How is your partnership with Miss Clemets getting on?"

Reiko paused to consider what she could tell Makoto. She could tell her that she was in love with Dixie, and had been for some time. She could say that the conflict between this feeling and her rivalry with Dixie had led both of them into a place where their very self-hood seemed at risk. She could speak of her fears that she might be losing Dixie, either to Aisha or, worst of all …

No, of course, she could not say these things to dear, innocent Makoto. The Judo Babe was a simple girl, who could have no conception that her friend was anything other than a kind, straight forward and honest competitor. How could Makoto understand the demons within others when she possessed none of her own?

Reiko said, "Its fine with Dixie. Only – she used to be tag partners with Aisha, and they quarrelled before splitting up. So our match against her could be a rough one."

"Oh, my!" Makoto put her hand to her mouth. "I hope not. Everyone wants to win, right, but that doesn't mean we have to get personal, does it?" Reiko found it difficult to suppress a smile; Makoto's uncomplicated belief in the virtue of friendly competition was one of her most endearing qualities. Makoto continued optimistically, "Perhaps by this time they will have forgiven one another. And Miss Aisha is such a great musician and performer on stage, isn't she Reiko?" she added, rather irrelevantly.

"Judging by her number of platinum albums, she most certainly is."

Reiko stopped with her mouth open, dumbstruck by the interruption.

"Indeed some might say her brand of mainstream pop is ... a marketing phenomenon, at the very least." Makoto looked as bewildered as if the unexpected words were in Martian. In fact they had been spoken in near perfect Japanese, with only a trace of a foreign accent.

The smartly dressed woman Reiko had noticed earlier was standing just behind her seat. But now her expression was one of kindly interest, her blue eyes seemed innocent and benign, and only a slightly nervous patting of her blonde hair betrayed any sign of tension.

"Oh, forgive me." The woman seemed to realise the effect her sudden appearance had had upon her intended audience. "I have startled you by not introducing myself first. I am Miss Spencer, a schoolteacher. Of course I have studied your beautiful language and country." She tilted her head sideways, giving them an appraising glance. "You are Reiko Hinomoto and Makoto Aihara, are you not?"

The two friends were still too surprised to reply, so the woman continued, "I have always been a great fan of the Rumble Roses tournament. I used to be captain of my school wrestling team, you know. Are you here to participate in the tag competition?"

Reiko finally composed herself enough to answer, "Yes, we are." Then, trying to regain the initiative, she asked, "How can we help you, Miss Spencer?"

Makoto, recovering her chirpiness, added, "We can sign our autographs for you, if you like."

"That is so kind of you to offer. But I was hoping you could assist me in quite a different matter."

Reiko indicated one of the empty seats. "Please sit down. We're always happy to talk to our ... fans. When we have time of course." Makoto nodded earnestly in agreement.

"Thank you. I will not detain you long." Miss Spencer seated herself next to Makoto, who gave her an encouraging smile.

"Please, go on, Miss Spencer!"

"In fact, I'm in search of information. About a missing person." Reiko gave a start. Miss Spencer's steely blue eyes narrowed slightly, as if in suspicion. "One of my most promising pupils, Rebecca Welsh, left school in order to enter this tournament. I have not heard from her since, nor have her foster parents. I am here to find out if something has happened to her. As you are competitors, I wondered if you had any inside information." Miss Spencer folded her arms and looked scrutinisingly at Reiko.

Reiko raised her shoulders in a helpless gesture, "I don't know anything, Miss Spencer, but …"

"But what?"

"Have you tried the police, Miss Spencer?" interrupted Makoto. "Really I don't think either of us can help you very much."

"The police are entirely uninterested, Miss Aihara." The schoolteacher fumbled in her pocket. "They think she's a typical run-away. True, she is a little unruly, but …" a note of real emotion entered her voice, "this is _so _unlike her. Here is her picture."

The photograph Miss Spencer held up seemed to have been taken at a concert. It showed an attractive young woman singing and playing guitar. She had red hair, large, almost cat-like blue-green eyes and pale skin. She was wearing a blouse and a very short plaid skirt, posing aggressively with the instrument held low.

The schoolteacher regarded the photo affectionately. "She is playing with her band, _The Killer Bambis_. She is _exceptionally _talented. Her stage name is Candy Cane." Miss Spencer's voice took on an urgent, almost pleading tone. "Are you _sure_ you haven't heard anything, anything at all about an unusual disappearance?"

Makoto said, "Well …" The pedagogue's gaze turned unblinkingly in her direction. The younger woman looked to Reiko for support. Reiko almost imperceptibly shook her head. In a subdued voice, Makoto said, "No."

"I see. I will not take up any more of your time." Miss Spencer rose abruptly. As she did so, she lurched sideways, knocking over Makoto's shake, and spilling the contents over the remaining cookies.

"I am _so _sorry." Miss Spencer hastily righted the shake. "Of course, I will buy you replacements."

"Really, Miss Spencer, its alright." Makoto began. "As a matter of fact…

"I _insist." _The schoolteacher sounded as if she were talking to her class. She walked determinedly towards the bar.

While she was gone, Makoto said, "Reiko, shouldn't you have told her about Fujiko? After all …"

"Its none of her business, Makoto-chan." Reiko said bluntly. "And, in any case, I really don't know anything. People go missing all the time, don't they?"

"Maybe, but…"

"Anyway, there's something about that woman I don't like."

Makoto waved a hand in protest. "Reiko, she seems like a harmless schoolteacher in search of her pupil!"

"That may be so. Or not. It's just a feeling I have. Look, Makoto, trust me on this one. You do trust me, don't you?"

"Yes, Reiko-chan." Makoto sounded miserable.

Miss Spencer had returned. She said, "Here are your shakes and cookies, my dear."

Reiko did not like the way the woman watched with a strange eagerness as Makoto reached enthusiastically for the tray. Makoto's first port of call was of course the cookies. While she was biting happily into one, Reiko said suddenly, "Is that Aisha over by the bar?"

As Makoto and Miss Spencer both turned to look, Reiko stood up rapidly, simultaneously flipping the tray in the schoolteacher's direction. Time seemed to slow as Makoto observed the arc of confectionery and shakes out of the corner of her eye, and with speed worthy of a Rumble Roses finalist managed to snatch a cookie out of the air. But it was too little too late. The blend of strawberry, chocolate and vanilla milk found its target. The schoolteacher's hair, face and shoulders were covered, and several rivulets of multi-coloured fluid trickled down the front of her blouse, dripping onto her skirt.

"Oh, my!" gasped Makoto, a trifle inadequately.

Miss Spencer's face matched the hue of a strawberry shake. She exclaimed, "Wicked girl! You did that on purpose!" Then putting her hand to her mouth, she gasped, "Oh, I forget myself, I am no longer in class!"

"Come now, Miss Spencer!" Reiko smiled sweetly. "It was an accident, for which I apologise." She produced a card from her jacket pocket. "Here."

"Wha …" The crestfallen teacher tried to wipe chocolate from her eye, peering confused at Reiko's offering. Makoto meanwhile watched this exchange wide-eyed, munching automatically on her rescued cookie.

"Its my website address. You can use it to bill me for the laundry." Reiko felt like the victor in a bar room brawl contemplating the wreckage and knocked out losers. She turned to Makoto, intending to make a grand exit.

"Miss Spencer." The Judo Babe had risen to her feet, astonishing Reiko. "While you are searching, I would like you to stay with me, and my tag partner Aigle. I know accommodation is expensive here, and I would like to help you as much as I can." Makoto bowed.

Miss Spencer made a half-hearted gesture of refusal. "I would not like to trouble you…"

"Its no trouble at all." Observing Miss Spencer's sorry state, she added, "And I think you need somewhere to clean up soon. Please, let's go together now." With almost indecent haste, Makoto ushered Miss Spencer to leave, before turning to formally bid farewell to Reiko. Reiko was near dumbfounded by the course of events.

"Makoto…"

"I'll see you again after our matches, Reiko-chan." In a lower voice, she added. "You're not right about everything, you know. Sometimes I have to make my own decisions." As Makoto turned to walk away, Reiko heard her say, "Miss Spencer, you remind me of my old teacher from _Hakata_."

Miss Spencer glanced briefly back at Reiko. There was an unmistakable gleam of triumph in her eyes.

* * *

*The Milky Bar Kid was ... pretty annoying really. White chocolate ... its just not right, is it? If you have views on the properties of confectionery, or even about the story, I'd like to hear them. Actually, just about the story really. This chapter attempted to blend slapstick humour with something perhaps a little foreboding - did it succeed?*


	5. The Shadow Returns

Chapter Five Interlude: The Shadow Returns

The moon cast a patchwork of light and shadow over the small motel room. Benikage slumped onto the cheap couch, her body crying fatigue. It had been almost a day since she had woken to leave on her mission, a period of great exertion without rest. Determination and exhilaration had kept tiredness at bay until now. The come down following the excitement of purposeful action left her feeling sad and sweaty and wanting to sleep. But she forced herself to get up and shower, and the rather inadequate trickle of hot water falling over her naked body was enough to relax and revive her.

Thus refreshed, she used her own pans to prepare a simple dish of rice and steamed fish . (The motel provided nothing in the way of cooking implements, nor did she care for the vile meals it offered). For a while the smell and warmth of the food cheered her spirits, dissipating the feeling of gloom that inevitably followed the end of an assignment, even a successful one. She had already transmitted her report, and the response had been as usual: _'You have done well'_. The memory brought back a feeling of pride, an echo of the glow of fulfillment. Her master had praised her. She tried to tell herself, _I am successful, I am happy_.

As always she could not prevent the same feeling rising up within her. The emptiness, the gap where someone should have been. Someone to whom she could express her hopes and confide her fears. Who would hold and comfort her in strong arms. She felt like weeping with the loneliness.

Sometimes she would attempt to put this sense of isolation into verse. She had not yet achieved a good mastery of _haiku_, but there was something in the discipline of ordering her thoughts that distracted her for a while. When she read them back, she would have tears in her eyes. At least it was an emotion that felt real; it was better than the numbness of despair. She wanted to feel everything or feel nothing.

She tried writing:

_In the bare room,_

_Shadows surround the empty chair,_

_Silver beneath the moon._

The last line did not seem right, and after a while she abandoned the attempt. Instead she read from a book she had borrowed from the local library. It told of ancient myths from the shores of the Mediterranean. She found the archaic speech difficult, but here and there something would resonate.

'_In the beginning were Chaos and Black Night. The two lay together, and Night gave birth first to starry Heaven, to cover herself and to be the abode of the blessed gods. And then Heaven created the broad Earth as a companion equal to herself…'_

Was she without equal? Was that why she was alone? Companionless?

She thought for a moment about her current 'partner' and her mouth pursed disdainfully. The singer had surrounded herself with expensive items and luxuries for which she cared not at all. Her only obsession, apart from her music, was to get revenge on the woman who had beaten her. For this petty purpose she had trained and plotted constantly, and now she believed Benikage would help defeat her opponent in the tag competition.

Benikage allowed herself a brief smile of contempt. The fool thought she was in control, not realising she was a mere pawn in a greater game. How tedious her company was! Better to be alone than with such a mindless bundle of self-love. Still she must tolerate her for a while yet.

She yawned. Her meal having been digested, it would soon be time to sleep. She preferred a hard bed in this isolated roadhouse to the silken sheets she could have slept between in Aisha's mansion.

For a while her mind dwelt on her opponents of the morrow. To Dixie Clemets she gave only brief consideration. The woman appeared to be yet another muscle-brained egotist. Still she was the defending champion, the Rose of Roses, and as such could be considered a primary target.

Reiko Hinomoto, on the other hand, held a special place in her thoughts. On the face of it, she was a pleasant but rather dull teenage starlet, obsessed with clothes and her weight, who also happened to be a talented wrestler. Yet Benikage believed she had seen something wistful in her eyes, staring from so many publicity photographs. Instinct told her that this woman could be someone she could talk to, about … what? Well about things that she might want to do … when she … when …

She yawned again. Why had Reiko chosen to partner the Cow Woman? The two were like night and day. Would Reiko have accepted Benikage herself as a team mate? _Would she even like me?_

Wondering about this, she fell asleep.


	6. Black Roses

Chapter Six Black Roses

"I'm sorry, Reiko." Dixie Clemets sounded anything but apologetic as she slammed her partner into the mat with a shoulder throw. "But just because Makoto has decided to take up with some loopy teacher isn't a reason for you to become as paranoid as a steer at a barbeque."

"Ooof!" For a moment Reiko was unable to venture a reply. It was the following morning, and the two members of the Tequila Sunrise tag team were engaged in their preparations for the first match by sparring in the gym. Both were dressed in even skimpier swimsuits than before, barely covering their intimate areas of flesh with small triangles of lycra. This was the first time the Rumble Roses tag competition had visited the Florida island group, and the organisers were making the most of it by requiring swim wear in every round.

"Gotcha!" Reiko deftly caught Dixie in a leg scissors, tripping and holding her. "I'm sure something wasn't right. The way she deliberately spilled those shakes, and then she was _waiting _for Makoto to drink one."

"Darn, I've been suckered!" Dixie dextrously attempted to prise Reiko's legs apart. "But look who's talking!" Yanking Reiko towards her, legs tucked either side of her thighs, the Texan used the leverage to flip Reiko over, butt projecting upwards, then made a grab for her waist. "You were the one who ended up making the teacher look like a Neapolitan ice cream!"

"It was defensive." The Japanese wrestler twisted sideways, counter grabbing her partner, lifting her body off the ground into a submission hold. "And Makoto was behaving very strangely by inviting her home like that." Reiko pulled back on the Texan's arms, leaving her in a somewhat undignified position.

"Gak!" Dixie struggled as Reiko's knees pushed into her back. "The only odd thing was that Little Miss Congeniality has grown a spine for a change. And she never got much chance to drink her shakes, y'all were spillin' them fer her."

"That's true." Reiko frowned, released Dixie from the hold. "But wait!" As Dixie rather ruefully got to her feet, she continued excitedly. "What about the biscuits! She could've …"

"C'mon Reiko!" The Texan was either out of patience or sore at losing the practice fight. "We haven't time for this load of old horse manure. We gotta talk tactics. Now like I said, leave Aisha for me to soften up, and ya'll see if ya can take the edge off the ninja …"

Dixie's team talk was interrupted by the first few bars of _Junction Rainy Blue_ coming from Reiko's mobile, left on the gym bench. Reiko hastened to pick it up.

"Oh, hi Mae, what is it? A delivery? Is it important that we see it now? Ok, we'll be finishing up." She turned back to Dixie. "Mae says there's something strange come in she wants us to see. We'd better wind things down."

"More strangeness." The Texan gave a huff which didn't sound too respectful. "This is all turning out _kerazier_ than a coot's day out."

* * *

"What in seven kinds of tarnation are _those?_"

The object of this very southern exclamation of incredulity stood innocently enough on a table in the morning room, now bathed in bright sunshine. On first consideration, the Texan's question appeared merely rhetorical, for there could be little doubt as to the nature and identity of what she was referring to.

Reiko said simply, "They're black."

"_Real _black," agreed Dixie.

"They are black," Mae confirmed, speaking in Japanese. Reiko's coach was a small, neat, dark-haired woman, of an age that could have been anywhere between thirty-five and fifty. She had trained and, so it was rumoured, fought against Reiko's late mother, the aura of that august relationship remaining in her calm manner, occasional gentle smile, but most of all, in the distinct impression that she was not someone to be trifled with. It was that formidable shield of understated menace which accompanies housekeepers of a certain age and disposition.

Reiko approached the table a little nervously, bent over the bouquet with the intention of smelling it, then thought better of it. She declared, "I've never seen anything like these."

Mae said, this time in English, "That's because black roses don't exist in nature." Her accent, unlike Reiko's, was heavily oriental.

"Wait a 'sec." Dixie also came closer to examine the bunch of flowers, bound together with silver wrapping. The tight, ink black whorls seemed to peer back, heads nodding as if conspiring some mischief. "Thought I heard you could buy 'em, on the Internet, say."

Mae didn't reply but shook her head in a way that hinted the Texan was trying even her large store of patience. Mae was increasingly finding her role usurped by her protégé's new tag partner, and it was inevitable that the two strong-willed women sometimes found themselves clashing, even if both secretly retained a large measure of respect for each other's abilities. Dixie's almost religious awe at the achievements of Reiko's mother partly encompassed her erstwhile close associate, whilst Mae herself was fully aware that the Texan's record was second only to that of her late, lamented friend. Nevertheless there were times when the two women barely tolerated each other, and any hint of disagreement could become a potential flash point.

Reiko said, "Mae's right. The roses that are advertised as black are in reality a very dark shade of blue or purple. But these," she pointed to the enigmatic bundle, "these are black for sure."

"That looks to be the way of it. Just seems like they suck up the light." Dixie gave Mae a look of suspicion, as if the latter were somehow to blame for the flowers' existence. "So how in the good lord's name …?"

"_Identekikumikae._" The trainer returned Dixie's stare with interest, then stubbornly snapped her mouth shut.

"Mae," Reiko said gently. "Dixie's Japanese is a bit basic at the moment."

Mae raised her eyebrows as if this were a shocking gap in the Texan's education. She translated reluctantly, "_Genetic recombination_."

"Say what?" In contrast to her Hicksville stereo-type, Dixie was usually well abreast of the latest developments in technology, so her pretended ignorance here presumably had the goal of further baiting Mae. "Ya'll coming across all technical of a sudden, its hard for a body to unnerstan ya."

"I had these sent to the lab. To be checked." Mae glanced warningly at the Texan, then back at Reiko. "You know I always protect your interests, Reiko-chan." Another significant look. "The lab scientists were baffled at first, then very excited. The technique used to grow black roses was one of a kind, something they'd never seen before. It altered the plant DNA at the most fundamental level, rearranged the building blocks of life itself. The techies thought it strange that someone would use such advanced methods to achieve such a simple result."

Reiko said, "Maybe that was the whole point."

"Alrighty." Dixie drew herself up to her full height. "We've got a wack job of an egghead for a stalker, as well as an uptight teacher."

"The lab said that the roses seemed quite normal, apart from the genetic changes. As far as they could tell, there was nothing dangerous about them. Still … " Mae shrugged. "They admitted it left them completely out of their depth."

Reiko asked, "So what do we do?"

Mae said, "I recommend we treat them with extreme caution. After all …"

"Fiddledeedee!" Dixie interrupted. "Ain't nuthin' but a bunch of freaky flowers. Someone's jest trying to rattle us, get us all worked up and distracted." She tossed her head. "Mae, you put 'em on ma bedside table, and we'll get on to more important stuff like how to win this tournament."

Mae simply folded her arms and did nothing, her mouth a straight line. Reiko looked worriedly from one woman to the other.

Dixie said, an edge in her voice. "Mae, I think ya'll heard me."

The small woman remained with her arms crossed. She said, "Texans don't like taking orders, but they sure as hell don't mind giving them out."

To Reiko's relief, Dixie began to chuckle. The Southerner appreciated a display of _cojones_, and anyone prepared to stand up to her was by definition showing they had them. She said in exaggerated tones of respect, "Mae, if you could please find your way to puttin' them flowers in ma room, I most surely would be obliged to ya." She doffed her Stetson elaborately

"Alright." Mae suddenly grinned. "I'll find some water for them." She gathered up the roses without hesitation, and headed for the kitchen.

Behind her retreating back, Reiko pantomimed fanning her head with relief. In response Dixie mimicked drawing pistols and shooting them.

* * *

"Where the helluva you bin, ninja?" Aisha's beautiful, dark features were twisted with rage, as she stormed down the grand staircase of her new beachfront property.

Benikage leaned casually against one of the mansion's elegant white pillars.

"I have been about my affairs," she replied haughtily. "It is none of your concern."

"The hell it isn't! Don't'cha keep a watch? A mobile? Its barely two hours before we take on Cowgirl and Hinomoto. I've heard nothing from you for nearly two whole days. I was wonderin' if you were even gonna show."

Benikage gave her tag partner a cool glance. Aisha was still wearing her everyday garb of bra top and combat trousers, although she was as usual perfectly made-up, and her glossy, straight, blonde hair was freshly washed and arranged.

"I am here. I am prepared." The ninja folded her arms.

"Oh, really? For a start you look like something the cat's dragged in. Your hair's a mess, you're not in your swimsuit and _you're still wearing that ridiculous mask!_"

Benikage drew herself up. She was becoming used to Aisha's poor emotional control, but this time the arrogant millionairess had gone too far.

"A ninja removes her mask for no one. Your remarks are out of order," she retorted frostily.

Aisha continued staring moodily at the slighter built woman, her dark brown, soulful eyes somewhat perplexed. She found her partner's behaviour difficult to figure; this annoyed and frustrated her.

"What? I mean, can't ya put on shades or somethin'? Look, I don't really give a damn. Get your hair brushed up, put on your costume and let's get rolling. The limo's all ready to go, and we'll hav'ta to plan our match strategy _en route_. Which is too bad. If I know that Dixie chick she'll be plotting her little heart out right up ta the last minute. Anything to get herself the drop on me, the sly vixen."

Benikage swallowed down her anger at the singer's peremptory tone. She needed to keep this intemperate fool sweet for a while longer, long enough to maintain her cover. Nevertheless she decided a final comment was required.

"I have no fears," she pronounced with hauteur.

"Is that so?" Aisha's generous mouth stretched into an unpleasant grin. "Well let me give ya this advice. When Cowgirl's pulling ya li'l arms outa their sockets, you'd better scream awful loud. 'Cos otherwise I might figure you don't need my help, you being such a _courageous_ warrior n' all."

Benikage's cheeks reddened with fury. But she could think of no suitable reply. Aisha sniggered.

"Now git going!"

* * *

"Its time, Reiko."

Reiko glanced across to where Dixie was standing at the locker room door. The Texan's blue eyes probed directly into hers, a look that was both assessing yet somehow encouraging.

"How ya feelin'?"

"I guess I'm a little nervous."

"That's ok. I often feel the same. First time with a new partner, know what I mean." Dixie grinned broadly, and Reiko couldn't help chuckling in response. She knew that Dixie was trying to relax her.

"I'm all ready to go." _I hope_. She cast her mind back to Dixie's earlier words of warning.

"Most important thing I'm gonna tell ya about Aisha," the Texan had been saying, "is never underestimate her. First about her being a pop star and all. Don't think that makes her soft. To keep that body she loves so much in perfect trim, she'll train and train and train again. She is very fit, very strong and very tough. She grew up on the street originally, remember.

Second thing is, don't let her fool you inta thinking she ain't a good wrestler. She'll come out, and you'll think, she ain't fast, and for all her dancin' around, her moves ain't much to worry about; I can nail her in no time. She'll stand there taking everything you throw at her. You think you got her hurt bad. You ain't hurt her at all. She's just waiting for you to let your guard down, get complacent. Then she'll make her move. Her counters are some of the best, and she'll fight dirty if she has ta. Once she's got you on the back foot, she'll come at you, and keep coming, not give you one split second to rest or make the tag. You gotta watch yourself then. Before ya know it, she's got you in a submission hold, and then you'd better pray I'm there to rescue ya.

And the last thing: she ain't finished until she's tapped or counted out. She'll hang in there so long you won't believe; you reckon you must have got her beat 'cos she's taken so much punishment. You relax a moment, she's ready to come right back at you. She's gotta a body and a will like iron, I'm telling ya. When all's said and done, she's a street fighter through and through."

Reiko said, "She reminds me of someone else I know well."

"You reckon? Well I guess we have got more than a little in common. 'Cept that I'm a better technical wrestler; slicker moves, more disciplined. If that weren't the case, that belt wouldn't be on ma wall, it'd be on hers."

Reiko had looked across to where the championship belt hung from a hook in the locker room. She had been surprised to find that it wasn't on display at Dixie's ranch along with her other trophies; in fact this was the first time the Southerner had allowed her to see it. She had explained, "I keep it stowed away, 'case I take ta preening ma self and getting too cocky. Only time I bring it out is before a match, to remind me of what I gotta live up ta."

Dixie had caught the direction of Reiko's look, noticing how it lingered, the desire written on her face, and grinned. "Quit lickin' ya chops." Reiko didn't smile in response, and Dixie added more seriously. "Don't worry, one day it'll be there in the ring for you to take if you can. I guarantee it." She had put a hand on Reiko's shoulder.

_Its still between us_, Reiko thought. _What would each of us be prepared to give, what would each of us be prepared to sacrifice, to outdo the other in the most important contest of all? _ She looked again at Dixie. The American was still smiling in a reassuring and friendly manner. _Can I trust her? Well, I have to trust her now._

Reiko drew her index finger across her nose in her signature gesture of readiness.

"Yeehaw!" Dixie exclaimed. "Let's hit the beach!"

* * *

*Aisha was brought up in Texas like Dixie (though from a poor background) so I figured her speech to be a mixture of the local dialect with 'street talk'. A difficult blend to pull off. While we're talking Texan, someone has informed me there's a difference between the use of "y'all" (plural) with "ya'll" (singular), both meaning "you". It would be nice if this person were reliable, but by his own admission he can be somewhat unpredictable. Nevertheless until someone tells me different (non-Texans need not apply) I will observe this distinction - so don't think its a spelling mistake.

"Black Roses" was originally going to be the title of the whole story, until I realized that its been frequently used by others, even on this site. I think the current name is more expressive of the main theme.

Oh, one other thing. This chapter contains a fairly obscure reference to a very popular online shooter (clue: its on X-box live exclusively). You would only notice it if you were watching the cut sequence _with subtitles on_. I offer no prizes for guessing the game, or indeed, the reference. Only my esteem.*


	7. Into the Arena

Chapter Seven Into the Arena

The warmth of the Florida night pressed close on Reiko's skin, her tiny bikini not the cause of any goose bumps. Above the towering marble columns forming the entrance backdrop, the faint, early stars were obscured in heat haze, the distant threat of an approaching storm adding to the tension of the pre-match atmosphere. Ahead of her, a wooden walkway stretched towards the sea, lined on either side with rows of burning torches. Apart from a single spot light which followed the entrants progress, these flambeaux provided the main illumination so that, combined with the Romanesque style of the building behind them, the impression was given that this was a contest from the classical age of the world. Perhaps the tournament directors had wanted to draw attention to the gladiatorial nature of the encounter.

_Are they hoping to see any real blood spilled? _Reiko wondered. The pre-match publicity had relentlessly hyped-up the contrast between _Rodeo Drive_, as Dixie's tag partnership with Aisha had formerly been known, and her new team _Tequila Sunrise_. The latter was seen as a _face_ team, due to Reiko's participation, whereas the _Drive_ had been known for its dubious _heel_ tactics. Speculation was rife that this match between _Sunrise_ and the opposing _Dark Alliance_ was going be rough, if the antagonism between Dixie and Aisha got out of hand.

_And that's what the spectators and the organisers want to see, a grudge match between the forces of good and evil, _Reiko thought. _Fans like to see things in terms of black and white, and as long as someone gets hurt in the process they don't mind which side triumphs in the end. They enjoy booing the skull-duggery of the heel side, as much as cheering the bravery of the guys in the white hats. And the backers win, either way._

Putting this meditation aside, Reiko focused on the entrance she had arranged with Dixie. It was straightforward, except for the last part. She wished though they'd had time to come up with something better than the rather bland if vigorous pop tune which was playing them in.

"Dixie Clemets and Reiko Hinomoto are TEQUILA SUNRISE!"

The tag partners hit the boardwalk running, cheers and whistles rising from the crowds packing the beach, presumably at the sight of their micro bikinis, Reiko's red, Dixie's blue. At the mid-point of the ramp they paused, striking poses, while at the same time fireworks launched into the night sky. Then they resumed their progress at a more leisurely pace, saluting the crowd. Although used to modelling in daring outfits, Reiko felt a faint embarrassment at the amount of flesh they were showing. _If these swimsuits were any smaller, they'd be non-existent!_ But Dixie had insisted they couldn't let Aisha outdo them costume-wise, and in terms of bikini size this would be practically impossible.

The ring was placed in the middle of a tidal pool, with the prospect of a ducking for anyone thrown outside of it. A retractable part of the boardwalk allowed Reiko and Dixie to cross and leap athletically over the ropes. Now came the difficult bit of the routine. Reiko attempted a running high-five with Dixie, and missing it stood apparently embarrassed. Dixie turned and treated her to a cold stare. Reiko hastily completed a whole series of high-fives as if making up for her mistake. It was a set up, of course. Reiko had initially objected on the grounds of professionalism, but Dixie had said, "Reiko, it'll look kinda cute, and maybe the crowd'll be more sympathetic if you seem like a green horn. It might even confuse Aisha into thinking we're not a tight outfit."

Reiko wondered if the Texan had been more concerned at appearing as the senior partner in the team. But it was too late to worry about that. They completed the entrance by facing each other, striking out to touch gloves, ending with their arms crossed and touching elbow to elbow in a pose of solidarity. Looking into Dixie's eyes, Reiko saw them light up with pure, almost child-like pleasure.

_That's something I can always count on. Dixie lives in this ring. She loves wrestling like she loves life._

Entering first gave them the opportunity to observe the arrival of their opponents. Musically the _Dark Alliance_ had the advantage of making their entrance to the strains of Aisha's number one hit, _Fate_.

Reiko had seen Aisha many times before, in live broadcasts, in recorded DVDs, on Internet streams. Nonetheless, her actual appearance, alone, on the catwalk, caused a thrill to ripple through her body. Not only at the thought that this was, at last in the flesh, the star who had sold a record number of platinum albums, whose combination of beauty, style and vocal talent had made her the idol of millions. It was the effect of a remarkable charisma which instantly made itself felt, in the way she stood, held herself, moved; from the dark flashing eyes, golden glossy hair, flawless skin, superbly toned muscles. Her swimsuit looked like something from an exotic lingerie catalogue, an affair of white lace which seemed at once chaste and sexually alluring.

All around, the crowd were reacting, some hysterically cheering, others looking upwards with adoring eyes. And in her turn, Aisha responded. Reiko could see how she bathed in this show of collective worship, almost greedily sucked in the love around her. Her confidence was absolute, her progress along the walkway punctuated by perfectly timed dance moves, acknowledging her audience with waves and blown kisses. It recalled the triumphal march of some conquering Roman emperor.

Even so it was surprising that Aisha was already about a third of the way along the boardwalk, before her partner followed her onto the stage. The woman suddenly coming into view was considerably shorter and slighter, her willowy, graceful figure in marked contrast to Aisha's towering, muscular one. Her rose-coloured swimsuit was similarly less striking, the impression of innocence reinforced rather than contradicted. Yet this tameness was overridden by the _mask_ she wore, showing the same fierce animal features which had so disturbed Reiko when she first saw them.

_So she's still wearing it. I wonder what effect it will have on the crowd._

* * *

_She is doing this to spite me!_

Benikage felt as though there was a yawning gulf between herself and the mid-point of the catwalk, where Aisha had paused, and was looking back at her, one hand on hip. The singer appeared to be smiling for the fans, but Benikage was convinced she was also aiming a mocking look in her direction.

_She believes I cannot handle this. Perhaps she is right. There are so many faces, and they are all looking at me, at my body, so exposed. For someone who is always hiding, it is a nightmare._

The mask did not seem much protection anymore.

"Let's see your face, beautiful!"

Her training and mind/body control were not enough to prevent two spots of colour appearing on her cheeks.

_They treat me as though I am a piece of meat_.

She was sure that Aisha could sense her embarrassment and humiliation, and was taking a sadistic pleasure in it.

_I must maintain my cover at all costs. I will show her!_

Taking a deep breath, Benikage squared her shoulders and strode forwards, chest out and hands on hips, doing her best to imitate Aisha's nonchalant walk. Cheers started to break out.

_I will not allow this to distract me from my purpose. I must observe all the contestants. Anyone of them could be tampered with or tampering._

_Even Reiko Hinomoto._

* * *

The arena was bathed in light, hues of gold, pink and white mixed together by the tracking spotlights, turning the surrounding water into a phantasmagoria of reflected, rippling colour. Outside of this, the main illumination was still torchlight, reddening the faces of the crowd, while leaving the rest of their forms darkened so they resembled an assemblage of demonic worshippers, ready for some satanic rite.

"Go get her, Reiko!"

Reiko was aware of Dixie cheering her on, of the upturned, baying mouths in the crowd. But of all these faces, her attention was focused on one alone.

From above the mask, soft, brown eyes watched. Reiko had the strange feeling that they were looking _through_ her for something below the surface, something secret. Were the eyes, apparently so gentle, those of a killer_?_

Reiko reviewed in her mind everything she had been told about the society of _ninjitsu_. They were a secret organisation for centuries, dedicated to the arts of spying, assassination and intrigue. Mercenaries who sold their services to the highest bidder, they were despised by _samurai _for having no honour, yet were rumoured to have their own code, loyalty to their clan coming above all else. Their ability to use stealth and ambush was second to none, and they were masters of trickery and deception.

_If she is a real ninja, then I must be on my guard against tricks._

Benikage stood in an attitude of contemplation, palms pressed together. Reiko hesitated, unsure how to approach this. To challenge her opponent seemed almost discourteous, to ignore her, doubly so. Benikage provided a way out of the dilemma for her. She held one hand above the other, slightly clenched, as if shielding a precious object or animal, manipulating her fingers in a series of gestures.

Reiko fought down the urge to bow respectfully as Makoto would have done. She contented herself with a perfunctory nod. It occurred to her that the organisers would have preferred something more dramatic, and might be regretting allowing the tag debutantes to face off first. But Dixie had insisted and, as usual, she had got her way.

_We'd best put a good show on for them, _Reiko thought, an instant before the bell rang, and the two combatants began circling for position.

'_Spend the first minute in study.' _Reiko couldn't remember if this was ancient wisdom passed down the centuries, or whether she'd heard it in a martial arts film. Benikage at any rate seemed content to take time to scope her opponent, while keeping well clear of her. Reiko decided to seize the initiative thus offered, sensing the crowd would soon be getting impatient at the lack of action.

_Here's a ninja-style trick for you. _Breaking from the circle routine, she quickly jumped onto the middle rope and spring boarded into a spectacular twisting back-flip, corkscrewing her body to send herself into a dive directly into Benikage's path.

Almost casually, the slender woman sidestepped the attack, leaving Reiko to spin to the ground. For an instant Reiko was vulnerable, but the next moment she had rolled clear, and the opportunity to counter attack had been missed or ignored. Without pausing, Reiko continued on the offensive, this time trying to force her opponent into a corner. In response the masked woman backed off, but much more slowly.

_She's trying to lure me in, _Reiko thought, even as she launched a combination attack, a kick to chest height, with a nearly simultaneous straight-arm strike, Bruce Lee style. The supposed ninja let the kick slide by; then seizing the extended arm, swung her leg in a lightning counter aimed at Reiko's chin.

_Noise in my head. What are these words swimming around? 'Their knowledge of anatomy allows them to strike at the precise areas of the body to stun, break bones or kill.' Is that why everyone is cheering?_

_Flick, flick, flick. Time is slowing she cannot hit me so fast over and over and now I'm falling …_

The world righted itself. Reiko became aware that she was sitting on her backside in an undignified posture. Benikage was standing over her, alert but seemingly unwilling to press her advantage. The eyes above the mask held amusement. The crowd were roaring encouragement.

Burning with humiliation at being floored so easily, Reiko tried to catch her antagonist out with a long, low leg sweep from her prone position, simultaneously trying to regain her feet. It was a street-fighting move, but again failed to connect. As Reiko rose, Benikage kicked her hard in the stomach, then closed to deliver scything flat palm chops to the back of the neck. Reiko dropped to her knees, and two more elegant kicks struck her head, causing her to roll belly up on the canvas. Contemptuously the ninja placed a foot on her opponent's chest, twisting it over the ribs, then sprang away.

_She's so fast. Faster than anyone I have ever fought against. If I can't match her for speed, I have to find another way to beat her. Dixie is relying on me. I need time to look for a weakness. I must be more defensive._

Perhaps sensing this change of strategy**, **Benikage became yet more confident, moving forward to trade punches with Reiko, who blocked desperately, but was unable to stop some punishing blows striking home. Apparently satisfied, the ninja performed an exquisite backwards flip, straight-legged, one foot landing, then another, to take her out of range.

_She's showing off._ _She considers herself superior, and thinks she can play cat and mouse with me._

Reiko could sense contempt in her adversary's eyes. She recalled her mother's teaching. 'An opponent who believes they have won before the match is over may have exposed a fatal weakness. Encourage them in this belief, and be ready to take advantage.'

Immediately Reiko set about putting the advice into practice. Slightly dragging her feet, she backed towards her own corner, as if about to make the tag. Benikage instantly followed, and as she approached, Reiko made a deliberately clumsy attempt to grapple, exposing herself to an obvious counter throw.

Benikage took the bait, grabbing at Reiko's right arm preparatory to throwing her.

In a sudden explosion of speed, Reiko countered the counter, gripping Benikage's bikini top with both hands, and rolling to the ground, dragging the ninja with her in a full sacrifice. As Benikage was thrown across her body, Reiko rotated with her, maintaining the contact. With her opponent temporarily at her mercy, the younger woman took full advantage, seizing the _kunoichi_'s right leg, and bending it at an unnatural angle, straining the ligaments. Benikage thrashed wildly, but was unable to escape.

Rapidly changing her grip, Reiko converted her grapple to a submission hold, a particularly agonising leg lock her mother had taught her. A whimpering from Benikage told her that whatever near supernatural abilities the ninja possessed, immunity to pain was not one of them. On the contrary, Reiko could almost smell her opponent's fear and desperation; she was not used to being trapped and hurt. It even seemed possible the ninja was so shocked by her sudden reversal of fortune that she might tap out.

Reiko became uneasily aware that this was not in the best interests of the match as a whole. The crowd and the organisers would be disappointed that the two main draws, Dixie and Aisha, hadn't even entered the ring, to say nothing of those competitors' own frustration. She looked across at Dixie. The Texan wore an impassive expression like armour. Aisha was fidgeting impatiently, but showed no signs of trying to intervene. Reiko got the impression she was enjoying her partner's discomfiture.

_Well its too bad, it would be wrong of me to let up. I wonder if Dixie …_

Reiko's train of thought was rudely interrupted by Aisha's diving elbow drop, forcing her to release the lock. The singer's feigned indifference had led to both _Sunrise _partners being caught by surprise.

Aisha held up a palm for Benikage to tag. "Seems like our _fearless _ninja needs some downtime." She gave her partner a disdainful glance. The dark haired woman regained her feet gingerly, and slunk back into her corner.

Reiko tried to keep focused. Aisha's presence, the smouldering, magnetic look in her deep, brown eyes, and her movement, so graceful, like an elegant dancer, were all too obvious distractions. Reiko reminded herself that this was a competition where beauty and brutality went hand in hand.

Aisha gave Reiko a long, appraising look. "My ain't you a pretty thing? So what, you Dix's _new partner_? Forgive me if I indulge in some amateur psychology, but it occurs to me that if there's one thing that's gonna rile ya, its seeing someone _messing_ with your _new partner_. Wouldn't it be too awful if someone were to spoil her beautiful hair, or even her beautiful face? What d'ya reckon Dix? D'ya mind if I play rough with your l'il Japanese kitten?"

Dixie rolled her eyes. "How you do shoot your mouth off, Aisha," she drawled nonchalantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I say too much? I didn't want to imply anything _rude_. And Reiko here's been so nice and quiet and polite, like a l'il mousey. Would ya like to play with me, mousey?"

Reiko had been prepared for Aisha's taunting, but it didn't stop her feeling a rush of hot blood to her head; the one thing she wanted was to wipe the smirk off the pop star's face. _Just a step closer,_ she thought.

Aisha took the step, and Reiko dropkicked her to the canvas.

Never one to wait around, Reiko was up on her feet, attempting a cross body attack on Aisha as she sought to recover. Aisha went down, but unlike Benikage, she threw off Reiko's attempted grapple with ease. They squared off, Reiko still with the initiative, which she used to launch a kick/punch combo. Compared to Benikage, Aisha seemed to be moving in slow motion, and the Japanese woman had the satisfaction of hearing Aisha grunt as her blows struck home.

Aisha backed off, dancing on her toes and raising her gloves protectively. She made a clawing motion with one of them. "So kitten can scratch? Meow, hiss!"

From the sidelines, Dixie commented, "Girl, you sure are mixing your metaphors, is she cat or mouse?

"I'm mixing my wha …" before Aisha could say more, Reiko made a grab for her gloved hands. The move was just a little predictable; Aisha dodged and uppercut, but Reiko counter-punched, scoring heavy strikes to Aisha's body. Again Reiko tried to take hold, this time reaching for Aisha's hair.

With perfect execution and timing Aisha countered, jerking Reiko off balance, and sweeping away first one leg, then the other to deposit her on the canvas. In a sudden flurry of activity, Aisha stamped several times on Reiko's chest, then hauled her to her feet, mauling her with a vicious series of punches. She bounced Reiko off the ropes, and flung her towards her own corner. An alert Benikage grabbed her round the throat.

Winking at the enraged but helpless Dixie, Aisha strolled up to the corner. "Is poor kitten trapped like a cat in a bag?" At her signal, Benikage released Reiko, and Aisha punched her in the stomach with all her strength. As Reiko folded up, the two wrestlers began to savagely beat her. She tried futilely to cover up and protect her face, as the kicks and punches rained down. When they finally stopped, Reiko was left on the floor with blood spurting from her nose and mouth.

"How d'ya like that, Dix'? Aisha licked her lips sadistically, as she ground her foot down on Reiko's hand, causing her to shriek out piteously. Dixie glared at the singer, who still had a grip on Reiko's hair. Pulling her up, Aisha pounded her several times with her fists, then ran her straight at the opposite ropes, tossing her over them into the tidal pool. Aisha quickly leapt over in pursuit, and as Reiko tried to rise spluttering out of the foot-deep water, Aisha brutally pushed her back under, holding her head down for a full ten seconds before allowing her to rise, vomiting blood and water.

When Aisha attempted this unholy baptism for the second time, it was too much for Dixie, who jumped down from her corner into the pool. The pop star seemed to be expecting the move, and smartly leapt out of the way of Dixie's lunge, before sliding back through the ropes.

"Hey, Dix', seems someone tried to drown your poor kitten. Take her home, and give her some milk."

"You just wait there and I'll give you something," was all Dixie could manage, as she tagged with a bowed but not beaten Reiko.

"Sorree – time for the ninj' to earn her corn again. See ya later." Aisha waved cheekily, before tagging with Benikage.

The _kunoichi_ stepped into the ring a trifle warily, sensing the coming of the Texan's fury. It was perhaps a gesture of respect that, having previously disdained to attack an opponent at a disadvantage, she launched herself at Dixie as soon as the Southerner had cleared the ropes. Benikage's boot connected with the Texan's unprotected face. Dixie staggered and fell, but immediately got up. With a roar, she charged Benikage like an enraged grisly. The ninja leapt aside, kicking Dixie on the back of the shin to unbalance her, then flooring her with a rabbit punch to the neck. She added a couple of crushing stamps before Dixie could rise.

The Southerner stood up again, and this time began circling rapidly. Benikage took up a boxer's stance, feinting and dodging, as if trying to assess her opponent's capabilities, perhaps to convince herself that Dixie was, after all, a paper tiger. Suddenly she cartwheeled to the Texan's blind side, landing a stunning combination of blows to floor her opponent for the third time.

Dixie rolled to her feet, taking up a stance both intimidating and defensive, one foot in front of the other, shoulders stretched apart, making herself look as large as her 5' 11" frame and the state from which she hailed would allow. She circled the ring slowly, taking one step at a time.

She said, "You don't talk much, do ya?"

There was no response from her opponent, but Reiko could sense she was listening intently. She had slowed her movement to match the Texan's, perhaps in itself an advantage.

Dixie said, "I'm askin' myself why that is. Maybe its cos of being scared of what we might find out, that ya got somethin' ta hide."

Reiko might have imagined it, but it seemed that as the Texan made herself bigger, so Benikage shrunk into herself.

Dixie continued, "Don't know if you're a real ninja or whether ya'll pretendin'. Don't matter much either way. This ain't a place for sneaks and fakers. This ain't a _dojo _or a film set. This here's a wrestlin' ring for real wrestlers. Reiko there, she's a real wrestler, and though it pains me to say it, your partner, she's a real wrestler." Striking her own chest, Dixie said, "And me … well I think ya get the picture. But you, I ain't sure what _you _are. So stop ya sneakin' around and show us if you can really wrestle, or crawl back to whatever stone you've been lying under."

_How does she do that? _Reiko thought. _Just with her presence it seems like she's turned things around._

While Dixie was speaking, the ninja seemed to slump, almost as if she were about to follow the Texan's last taunting suggestion. Now she stood up straight, and raising a finger in a significant gesture, she intoned, "Benikage is here." Her diction was precise but somewhat overemphasized, making her pronouncement even more melodramatic.

Suddenly she raced forward, springing over Dixie's head in a huge rotating leap, grabbing the Texan's hair in mid-jump to use as a pivot. Landing just behind her, she snaked an arm around her opponent's neck, attempting a headlock.

Dixie was ready, instantly twisting out of the hold. Then with a bear like yell, she seized her opponent around the chest, lifting her high in the air, crushing her ribs in a suffocating hug. The ninja moaned and choked. Still holding her up, Dixie charged towards her opponents' corner, dashing Benikage against the turnbuckle and simultaneously knocking Aisha backwards into the water with an undignified splash.

Dixie punched Benikage while she was still cornered, only to find her slipping away. With a cry of "Yukodo!" Benikage tried to counter-grab and roll her adversary to the ground, but Dixie had already braced herself and stood like a rock. She violently elbowed back into her opponent's face. This seemed to stun the ninja, and while she stood dazed, Dixie turned and head-butted her to the canvas. As she reached out to grab her opponent and apply the coup-de-grace, there was a flash, and the ring suddenly filled with smoke. Dixie groped and coughed, but Benikage seemed to have disappeared. The Texan looked wildly in every direction. The crowd booed their disapproval.

"Look out!" Reiko had seen what Dixie had not, that Benikage had mounted and leapt off the turnbuckle and was actually in mid-air. She landed atop Dixie's shoulders, locking her legs around the Southerner's head, and toppling her backwards to the floor. Dixie's shoulders were pressed to the canvas, and the referee began to count her out.

"One!"

Reiko had already climbed the corner post.

"Two!"

Reiko leapt off as if she were about to execute her signature move, "Angel Dive", but instead her leg extended and struck Benikage's chest, knocking her backwards and breaking the pin. Still shaken, Dixie accepted the offered tag, and Reiko advanced rapidly on Benikage. The ninja was backing away across the floor, her eyes wide, as if escaping from some nightmarish peril. Just in time, she reached behind her to tag with Aisha.

"Guess who's back!" Aisha was dripping water from her unexpected bath, and her hair was sadly plastered together; in all other respects she looked fresh, ready and eager to continue the fight. Reiko, remembering the earlier counter, backed off a little.

"I don't need her." Aisha contemptuously aimed a thumb in the direction of the panting ninja. "I'll take the both of ya on myself." She turned to the crowd, raising her fist. "C'mon, cheer for me! Louder! Can you remember my name now? Cheer for me!"

From a multitude of throats, a single name rose like a tribal chant, "Aisha, Aisha, Aisha!"

Feeling a little like the US Cavalry encircled by Sitting Bull's Braves, Reiko retreated as far as she could with dignity. She could hear Dixie breathing hard in the corner.

"Reiko."

"Yes, Dixie."

Aisha was cheerleading the crowd like she almost expected them to jump into the ring to help her.

"Reiko, I want ya to make the tag."

Keeping her eyes fixed on Aisha, now thumping her fist on the turnbuckle in time with the chanting, Reiko said, "You're not ready."

"Make the tag, Reiko." Dixie spoke calmly, but the words had the force of absolute command.

Reiko said, "Don't you see that's what she wants you to do? You're allowing your anger to rule over your wrestling head."

"Reiko." Dixie's voice remained completely level. "I don't give a damn what ya think. Make the tag."

"No Dixie, I won't let you ruin everything." Reiko raised her gloves. She felt that the Texan was about to destroy more than just their chances in the match.

Gently, Dixie said, "Reiko, if ya don't make the tag, this partnership is over. Ya'll know I mean it, don't ya?"

A great surge of indignation rose in Reiko's breast. She turned and slapped Dixie's gloved palm with her own.

* * *

"Look, look!" Makoto Aihara almost dropped her popcorn. "Reiko's tagged with Dixie already! What d'you think of that, Aigle?"

The Mongolian nomad removed a spare rib from her mouth, wiped her hand on her furred bra cup, and considered the pictures showing on the plasma television.

"Aigle think pretty stupid move," she commented phlegmatically. "When one horse tire, smart warrior get another fresh."

"Ah, the wisdom of the steppes!" Miss Spencer was delicately nibbling some peanuts. "But the audience seem to appreciate it. They're cheering for Dixie too.

"What do you reckon'll happen, Miss Spencer?" Makoto looked like she was about to soil herself with excitement.

"Its hard to say, dear." The teacher popped a nut into her mouth, and added soothingly. "Dixie's the champion, so my money's still on her. Why don't you have another of those shakes I mixed you? It'll help you to calm down."

Aigle was casually adjusting the red bows in her long, dark hair. "If Makoto listen to voice of Great Spirit, Makoto always be calm."

"What a nice thought!" Miss Spencer gave the nomad a slightly condescending smile, which she ignored. "Drink your shake anyway, Makoto, there's a good girl."

"Yes, Miss Spencer." Makoto obediently raised the glass to her lips.

Aigle said, "They go at it hard. Ah – into water."

"Oh my, those costumes look like they've been sprayed on!" Makoto spluttered into her drink.

"My dear," tutted Miss Spencer, "try to maintain some decorum. Hmmm, that must have hurt. Oh, my goodness!"

Aigle and Makoto were giggling and nudging each other, despite Miss Spencer's disapproving looks.

"Something pop out that shouldn't," Aigle tittered.

"That'll keep Aisha's fans happy, win or lose!" laughed Makoto.

"Well, really!" declared Miss Spencer. "Is this a wrestling ring or a _bordello?"_

* * *

The water beneath the two wrestlers' feet churned into a multi-coloured wash of light. Drops glistened and ran from their skin. Their arms gripped tightly, as they tried to pull one another off balance, legs braced to avoid staggering.

"Dix'?" Aisha's low voice could barely be heard above the yelling and shouting. "Ya know ya can't win this, dontcha?"

"Strange to say, it never occurred to me," Dixie's grunted reply revealed she was feeling the strain.

"Ya only just beat me last time. And now I've trained to be so much better."

"Well whoopee do!"

"And you're tired."

"Me, no, I'm as fresh as a daisy."

The deadlock suddenly broke as Aisha plucked Dixie off the ground by main force, heaving her up onto her shoulders. A far off flash of lightning instantly lit up the whole arena, with its vast sea of faces.

"Its bin a good fight. But its over now. We'll finish this in the ring."

Swivelling, Aisha hurled Dixie over the ropes and onto the canvas, rapidly slipping through after her. Dixie rose, only to run straight into the singer's counter, a deep leg sweep into a throw which she followed up in classic judo style with a step over ground hold, tugging on her opponent's arm at right-angles to her body, while locking her head with her feet. Except that Aisha was twisting Dixie's wrist to make it into a submission hold.

"This the best you can do?" croaked Dixie.

"Oh no, I can make it much more painful for ya. You'll soon be wishing ya never split with me."

"That was your call."

"I guess so. Anyways, since we're talkin' about it, I'd like ya ta know, what I said, it was all lies, there was no one else."

"You're still a friggin' liar, I spoke to someone who …"

"Yeah, and I know who that was. She was lying too. It was only afterwards that we … well never mind. You're finished, this hold's virtually impossible to break."

Behind the ropes, Reiko was preparing to make a rescue attempt. But Benikage, recovered somewhat from her ordeal, had placed herself between the Tequila Sunrise partners. She wagged a finger in Reiko's direction, and shook her head.

"Now _that_ …" gasped Dixie, "is a word you'll never find in my vocabulary."

With what seemed to be sheer force of will, the Texan was beginning to free herself from the hold. In spite of Aisha's best efforts, she somehow managed to turn herself a little towards the pop star. Dixie's teeth bit down. Aisha screamed as the Texan's molars sunk into her leg, She let go Dixie's arm, and scrambled away.

Pausing only to spit blood, Dixie came at her. Aisha was retreating, limping, a look of utter astonishment and disbelief on her face. She appeared unable to stop Dixie grabbing her by the hair, as the Southerner slammed her face downwards to meet her knee coming in the other direction. Taking control, Dixie lifted her up in a part rerun of her earlier move, and sent her crashing into the turnbuckle. In quick succession she delivered a punch to the stomach, then a bone crunching head butt. The singer seemed to crumple.

As Reiko had seen her do many times before, Dixie prepared her finishing move, a rapid combo that gave the victim almost no time to react. Hoisting the stunned songstress onto her shoulders, Dixie spun and slammed her down onto the canvas. Then moving with a speed surprising for such a large woman, she leapt astride her to force her shoulders to the floor. Pinned down by the Texan's cover hold, Aisha looked too flabbergasted to escape.

"One!"

The tables were turned, and it was Benikage's turn to find herself hampered from interfering by Reiko's presence. She looked to where her partner lay helpless, too far away to reach in time, then back to Reiko, and her eyes seemed to smile. Raising her hands in a complex gesture of farewell, she bowed her head.

"Two!

There was a bright flash, a puff of smoke, and when it cleared, the ninja was nowhere to be seen.

"Three – and out! Tequila Sunrise win by a pinfall!"

Reiko jumped into the ring, and held Dixie's arm up high, as they paraded around, saluting the crowd. On the canvas, Aisha beat the ground in frustration and defeat.

Reiko said, "I'm sorry I doubted you."

Dixie said, "Its OK, I'm sorry too. I needed your help out there."

Reiko said, "That's what being a team's about, isn't it?"

Rockets soared into the night sky, their thundering detonations a precursor of the storm to come.


	8. Dark Dreams

Chapter Eight Dark Dreams

Heat lightning flickered, picking out the far away line of the horizon, the expanse of sea in between flat and calm. Reiko watched it from the veranda of her bedroom. The villa they had been provided with had several large rooms usable for the purpose. Reiko and Dixie had chosen one of these each to arrange as they wished, although when sleeping together they alternated between them.

Dixie joined Reiko on the porch. The distant flashes, a little stronger now, reflected from her golden hair. She said, "Sure is darn hot; don't think it'll get much better till the storm breaks. You ready for bed, Rei? It's getting on towards midnight."

"I don't feel that sleepy yet, I suppose it's the heat. I think I'll read a book. Lie down if you want and I'll come to bed in a while."

"I'll be in my bedroom then, I think it's a bit cooler than yours. Hey, why don'tcha try that rockin' chair? When I was a l'il girl, my momma often put me in one to get me to sleep."

Rocking in rhythm with the pulsing lightning and faint rumbles of thunder, Reiko's eyes soon grew too heavy to read further. She let the book rest on her lap, and gave a little yawn. In a minute she would …

A loud clap of thunder woke her abruptly. The storm had broken, the sea whipped into a froth, although no rain yet poured from the sky. In front of her the beach stretched away, illuminated by frequent sheets of lightning, barren and apparently empty of life. Reiko got unsteadily to her feet, bewildered and a little frightened by the violence of the elements. The digits on her mobile indicated it was just after midnight.

And then, in exact timing with a blinding flash of lightning, a sudden, piercing scream.

The following detonation of thunder was still echoing through the house as Reiko half-ran, half staggered in the direction of the shriek. It had come from Dixie's bedroom.

Dixie was crouched on the bed, a single white coverlet gathered around her nakedness. Her hair was wild, and perspiration gleamed from her forehead and shoulders. Her eyes stared as though hypnotised in one direction only, the open door leading to the veranda, now beginning to bang in the storm wind. Next to her, on the bedside table, sat the vase of black roses. In the flickering light, their dark heads seemed like an affront to nature, an alien intrusion from another world.

Reiko rushed to the Texan's side, putting her arms around her. Dixie's own were tightly clasped around each other, as she hugged herself, and Reiko could feel she was trembling uncontrollably. There was no mistaking, the American was terrified.

Finally Reiko managed, "What is it? What's happened to you?"

Dixie's gaze was fixed on the still banging door. She said in a sepulchral tone "She was here, Reiko."

Reiko gave an involuntary shudder at the sound of the Texan's voice. She had never seen her companion in anything like this state of fear. Trying to fight off hysteria, she cried, "Who? Who was here?"

For a moment Dixie continued to stare, then turning to face Reiko, she said, "Momma."

"But, but, you said she was …"

"She was standing there, right by that door, plain as day. She looked just like she did the morning before she …" Dixie's voice faltered. "Her uniform was all clean and pressed, her hat was plumb straight on her head, she had her gun buckled up and ready. You could see the braid where she was decorated for exceptional bravery. I tell you, she was here, Reiko."

In the midst of her confusion, Reiko seized on the one fact she hoped would bring both of them out of their fear and back to a sense of reality.

She said, "Your mother's dead, Dixie, just like mine is. You told me she was killed in the line of duty. You've been dreaming, that's all. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Dixie stared dully at Reiko. "Dead?"

Reiko said very gently, "Yes, Dixie. It was just a dream. Only a dream."

It seemed then as though some kind of realisation was dawning on the Texan, and she began to weep. Reiko hugged her tight for a long time. Finally, in between her sobs, Dixie began to talk again.

She said, "It was a terrible nightmare, Reiko." Reiko made soothing noises, and Dixie continued, "She seemed to be so angry. Like I've hardly ever seen her."

Reiko said, "It was the heat, it gave you a bad dream. You were thinking about her before too, weren't you?"

"I guess. She looked so real. She said some awful things, Reiko. About me, even about you."

Reiko decided it would be better to let Dixie talk. "What things?"

"It was all about how I'd disappointed her. She thought I was going to do something real good for people, maybe become a police officer like her. Instead I'd fooled around with wrestling. And I'd done – unnatural things she called 'em. She was always kinda straight-laced that way, ya see."

Reiko said, "She would've come to understand, I'm sure."

"Maybe. Anyway, then she started to say I had to change my attitude. She was kinda ranting. She said 'Vengeance is coming. Its coming soon.' That's when I must've woke up."

"Vengeance?" Reiko murmured. Aloud she said, "C'mon, let's go back to my bedroom. The storm seems to be less violent now."

Dixie said, "I don't know whether I want to go back to sleep right away."

Reiko pulled her gently to her feet, held onto her hand.

"Don't worry. That wasn't what I was going to suggest."

Columns of rain were sweeping in from the sea, falling onto the balcony in sheets. Unheeding they let the fierce downpour drench them, plaster their hair, the sting of the torrent another sensation in which they sought escape from a greater pain. More than ever before, Reiko felt Dixie reaching for her with a need that was close to desperation. When she drew her mouth down towards hers, it was to satisfy a frenzied hunger that seemed part of the uncontrolled fury of nature. The seeking for each other's lips and breasts, the pressing of thigh against thigh was something in which they had no choice, a pulling together of flesh in response to a silent cry, a craving for which there was only one relief.

The touch of fingers and lips on wet skin, on the tender zones of pleasure, in the dark and secret places, seared like tongues of fire, a crucible to burn away the sorrow. The white flare in their minds as their bodies shuddered in climax was the only light in an inner void, a thunder flash in the darkness of the abyss. Their tears mingling with the rain mourned not for those lost, but for themselves.

* * *

A light wind had blown away the storm clouds, leaving the sea heaving in a multi-faceted display of glitter. The early morning sunshine was still warming the sand beneath Reiko's bare feet, as she made her way down to the shore. In the distance was a short pier, perhaps used for mooring, now vacant and leading nowhere. At the end of it Dixie was sitting on a post, the breeze sending her golden locks streaming.

As Reiko approached, she could see the Texan was gazing off into the distance. She seemed not to notice Reiko until the last moment, and turning from the brightness of the ocean as if it hurt her eyes, she favoured the younger woman with a faint smile.

Reiko said, "Hey."

"Hey," Dixie replied, listlessly.

Reiko said, as brightly as she could manage, "You OK?"

Dixie merely nodded in reply. She seemed to be about to say something, then apparently changed her mind. Reiko waited, was about to put an arm on her companion's shoulder, when Dixie spoke again.

She said, "There was a phone call for you from Aisha."

"For me?" Reiko was stunned. "What could she …?"

"Its on the answer phone. The gist of it is she's _very sorry_ …" Dixie's accented the last two words a little sarcastically, "…for what happened in the match, and wants to make it up by takin' you out on the town. Tonight, that is. She said …" the older woman imitated Aisha's voice passably, 'I'll send ya round the limo, sugar.'"

"Tonight?" Reiko said wonderingly. "Did she invite you too?"

"What d'ya think?" Dixie gave a snort. "Like I was going to accept anyway."

"Do you think I should go?"

Dixie avoided Reiko's eyes. "Its your call. We ain't got no matches for several days now. Long as you don't overdo things too bad …"

"I meant …" Reiko said, "do you approve?"

"Why d'ya did ma approval? You're your own woman, darlin'." Dixie sounded impatient. More quietly she asked, "Ya wanna go?"

Reiko nodded. "Its not everyday after all that …"

"That's what I figured." Dixie turned away, her eyes on the shining sea.

Reiko said, "I'll need to buy something to wear first. Want to come?"

"Nah. You know designer shoppin' ain't my scene. Go with Makoto."

"I think she'll be getting ready for her match tomorrow. Its ok, I can go alone. You'll be all right?"

"Sure I'll find myself something to do."

"Then I'll go now while it's not busy." Reiko waited for some kind of farewell gesture from Dixie, but none came. She turned to walk away.

"Reiko." Reiko halted, about-faced. Dixie still had her back to her.

"Watch yourself with Aisha. She's got that something about her … she can fascinate ya, like a snake. Don't get fooled, she ain't usually got ya best interests at heart."

Reiko said, "I'll bear that in mind. After all, you ought to know."

"I'm not saying she's had that effect on me. But yeah, I know her well enough. Remember … " there was a hint of amusement in the Texan's voice. "… how we've got this close, personal resemblance to one another."

"Which in this case is …?"

"We both know what we want, we go right out ta get it. And we never give up."

* * *

It didn't take Reiko long to find what she wanted, an off the shoulder red designer frock which was elegant and allowed her enough freedom of movement to dance if she wanted. With still some time to kill before her hair appointment, she decided to window shop, and some impulse led her to wander into _Mitsumo's, _the Japanese themed clothes store.

Inside the shop, a small figure wearing large blue bows in her hair was turning away from the counter, loaded with freshly bagged purchases.

"Makoto!"

Reiko rushed across, grinning delightedly at her friend. Makoto looked round with a start and a rather guilty expression. Reiko thought she could guess the reason, and immediately started to tease her.

"So you've stolen away from your practice for some sneaky shopping? What will Aigle say about this dereliction of duty?" Reiko gave Makoto a sly nudge.

Makoto seemed not to be getting into the spirit of Reiko's humour. With a distinct lack of enthusiasm, she said, "Reiko, I didn't expect to see you here."

"I know its not my usual haunt, I guess I was feeling homesick! Now let's see what you've bought." Used to Makoto's compliant attitude, Reiko helped herself to a bag and began to examine its contents. "Oh my, what's this?"

Reiko held up and shook out the topmost item, shrugging off Makoto's half-hearted attempt to stop her. The article in question was a black, silk kimono, gorgeously embroidered with large red and gold dragons. The exotic motifs woven on it shimmered in the light, and the rich feel of the material confirmed the high quality of the design.

Reiko said hesitantly, "Its beautiful, but …" She glanced at Makoto. Could the young woman be quite so naïve? Most inhabitants of the Far East, even many Westerners would instantly pick up the implications. Makoto's blush told her she was all too aware that this style of garment was traditionally worn by geishas and other 'ladies of the night'. Why on earth would she of all people buy it? Reiko could think of only one reason.

She said delicately, "I suppose it would make a nice dressing gown. But I wonder … if it's quite your style. And would _Aigle_ like it, do you think?"

Abruptly Makoto snatched the kimono out of Reiko's hands, and stuffed it back into the bag, on top of a collection of expensive pink lingerie of various kinds.

"Why do you always do this?"

Reiko was shocked at the sudden hostility in her friend's voice. Makoto usually only raised her voice when excited or enthusiastic.

"Why do I always do what?"

"Presume to interfere in my affairs! Stick your nose in where its not wanted!"

Reiko was totally flabbergasted. Makoto's aggressive tone was now unmistakable. Reeling, she stammered, "I – I'm your friend, and so naturally I take an interest …"

Makoto took up a scornful pose that sat ill with her baby-faced looks. She said, "What I choose to buy isn't to please you, or Aigle or anyone else. It's for my own pleasure, understand? Remember that before you butt in again." She whirled and walked out of the store.

Stunned by this bombshell, Reiko was temporarily frozen to the spot. But she realised that something was seriously amiss with Makoto, and gathered herself enough to set off in pursuit. The Judo Babe had already reached the revolving door of the mall, forcing Reiko to wait for it to rotate again before entering.

Outside Makoto was standing next to the exit road with her hand held up.

"Taxi!"

A yellow cab drew up. Makoto got in, slamming the door in Reiko's face, and leaving her disconsolate by the roadside.

* * *

*It was mere coincidence that I published this today - or was it? Happy Halloween everyone!

The last chapter (seven) was a bit of a mammoth one, but necessarily so for a four way fight with a lot happening. There probably won't be many as long in future, but its nice to know even some of you professing Attention Deficit Disorder got to the end. The same person noted that the referee let the participants get away with some very naughty behaviour. This is not unusual for a Rumble Roses fight; some contestants have even been known to bring (mini) rocket launchers into the ring!

For those wishing to be of assistance: I'm trying to figure out the name of Dixie's XX finishing move, the one she used in the previous chapter. I'm sure it must be somewhere but I keep looking on the wrong sites. In the old game, they had most of this info down (including the wrestlers' vital statistics like their measurements!)*


	9. Night Clubbin'

Chapter Nine Night Clubbin'

A thick sea fog was rolling across the villa driveway, reducing the nearby buildings to outlines only. Shivering in her thin, designer dress, Reiko shifted her feet nervously. She did not feel much in the mood for a night out, particularly after the perplexing events earlier.

When it finally glided almost noiselessly to a halt in front of her, surrounded by white streamers of mist, the limo seemed to have a dream-like quality, a faerie transport to a mystic world. The rear door swung open, as if of its own accord. After a moment of hesitation, Reiko clambered inside.

Black padded leather seating occupied most of the interior. On the right side was a mini-bar, flanked by video screens showing one of Aisha's concerts, the sound turned down. Aisha herself was lounging on a seat nearest the front, facing away from the driver, who was screened off from the main compartment. The singer smiled, beckoned Reiko to sit next to her, then tapped smartly on the partition. The vehicle effortlessly accelerated into motion. It seemed to Reiko as if she and Aisha and the car floated in the mist together, cut off from the rest of the everyday world. The feeling grew that her meeting with the pop star was taking place in some alternate reality, where the normal rules of behaviour were suspended.

Aisha was dressed as someone might have imagined her in an erotic dream, in a sequinned halter top and a pair of extremely tight-fitting white shorts, displaying the strong curve of her buttocks and the breath-taking smoothness of her legs to the point where they fitted into high-laced boots. A simple circlet of pure gold confined her blonde hair. Diamond-studded gold bracelets on her arms added to the impression of casually displayed wealth.

She said softly, "I hope this will be an evening to remember. I've been looking forward to it."

As she lent forward to speak, Reiko caught the scent of designer perfume. Inhaling it, she shivered again, this time with the excitement of anticipation, of unknown outcomes. Her doubts about the wisdom of this encounter, her fears for Makoto, all seemed to have vanished into the mist.

Aisha continued, "Apologies, if we were a little _rough_ with ya. I trust there's been no lasting damage."

Reiko wet her lips enough to reply, "Nothing that I can't shrug off." She added. "My mother used to say that there's no mercy in combat."

Aisha smiled again, "I think your mom and mine would've got on fine." She reached across to the mini-bar. "So let me start to make it up to you. Champagne?"

"Thank you." Reiko seldom touched alcohol during tournaments, but she felt a mood of reckless abandon coming over her.

As she poured the wine, Aisha asked, "So what was it like, growing up in Japan?"

Reiko said, "For the most part it was good. Japan has such a rich culture and history. It wasn't that easy, but I wouldn't want to have lived anywhere else. Well, except here in America."

"Because that was where your mom did her wrestling?"

"That's right. And my father was American too."

"I didn't know that, but I can see it now. Did ya get teased at school?"

"At first I was bullied, but then the kids learned not to mess with me or they'd get hurt."

Aisha chuckled. "I was the school bully, but I never learned. Most bullies are cowards - I'm the exception. Always have been, always will be. What was your mom like?"

Reiko sipped her wine, thoughtfully. "Dedicated. She was often away at tournaments. But she phoned us, every day. I remember she always used to ask me, '_Have you trained today, little Reiko?_' She cared about us a lot. Even when I was small, all I wanted was to be like her, a famous wrestler."

Aisha said, "Still I guess you'd rather she'd been at home for longer. I never knew my father, but my mom was always there for me. She was no wrestler, but she taught me the most valuable thing I know. _'Never let anyone tell you they're better than you.' _I had to be tough where I grew up – the thing that drove me as a wrestler was to show everyone that I was the best. And there's few that've proved otherwise." She gave a rueful shrug. "No one 'cept Dixie Clemets, and now you, I guess."

Reiko gave a modest cough. "It was a team effort, really."

"Whatever, ya played your part. That's why I'm askin' ya this stuff, so's I can find out 'bout the woman that's bested me. I figured that y' ain't no softy. Ya can't reach the top in our profession without having some kind've struggle, without havin' it tough sometimes. Even 'Dix, with her rich daddy and cattle ranch. Y' know, her mother could've sent her to the swankiest private school in San Antonio, in Texas even. Instead she made her go to one with bad arses like yours truly, who wanted nothin' better than to beat the crap outa kids with more bucks than us." Aisha poured herself a generous glass of champagne. "_Salut!_ Here's to bullies and those that stand up to them."

Reiko tentatively raised her own glass, "_Kampai_!" Then suddenly, "Hey, where are we?"

The limo was driving up a winding driveway, between overhanging mangroves. A pair of tall, metal gates loomed out of the mist.

Reiko asked, in surprise, "What is this place? I thought we were going out nightclubbing."

Aisha grinned toothily. "Don't wet your pants! We are. This is my mansion, or one of them. You'll see why we're here shortly, a li'l surprise for ya."

Reiko felt some apprehension as the gates opened to let them drive through. She recalled a previous "surprise" when she had visited Dixie's ranch. However the limo did not stop at the steps to the pillared front entrance, and instead circled the building. Reiko could see little in the mist, except that it was white, two-storied and surrounded by extensive gardens.

The far side of the mansion faced the coast, and the limo drew up next to a wooden jetty. Bobbing slightly on a calm sea was a twenty foot, high-fronted, aluminium powerboat.

As they got out of the car, Aisha said, "This'll get ya to the mainland faster than that ole ferry."

Reiko exclaimed, "_Saiko! _It's beautiful! But will it be ok in the fog?"

Aisha leapt down into the cockpit, then reached up a hand to help Reiko on board. She flicked some switches, and two, powerful beams projected from the front of the boat to pierce through the streamers of mist. "No problem at all. If she ain't too fast for you?"

Reiko said, "I race bikes in my spare time. I love speed."

Aisha said, "Then you're a woman after my own heart. Hang on tight though, this baby kicks when she takes off." The engines began to throb, Aisha threw off the mooring line, and with a roar the boat surged forward, the prow high as white feathers of foam began to break over it.

The wind of their passage whipped back Reiko's hair. A thrill ran through her every time the boat leapt partly out of the water, then fell back. She looked across to Aisha at the helm, an irresistible grin on her face. Aisha's perfect teeth gleamed in reply.

* * *

The evening went by in a blur of places and people, a succession of nightclubs and bars, a procession of well-dressed Floridians mixed with tourists. At times Reiko felt she was sharing Aisha with all of them, each wanting their piece of the celebrity. Often people would greet the singer as if she were a personal friend, stand her drinks, ask for autographs or to take pictures standing next to her. There were moments too when she felt as if Aisha were there for her, and her alone; would give her a smile or a look, would dance close to her, touch her shoulder, whisper in her ear.

They had reached a nightclub where the clientele seemed more exclusive, and less inclined to bother them. Aisha explained that this was because she'd already been there several times.

"Reiko Hinomoto!" Unexpectedly, a fruity English voice hailed Reiko from across the bar. The speaker shouldered her way aggressively through the crowd, provoking several exclamations of annoyance. Like Moses parting the Red Sea, she elbowed a path between two of the largest security staff to stand before Reiko, who was momentarily at a loss.

"Hello, uh, …"

"Don't you recognise me?" the woman asked, pertly. "I thought you were renowned for doing your ... homework?"

Reiko tried to mentally subtract the ravishingly tight evening dress, with its numerous revealing slits, and substitute something more familiar.

Then she said carefully, "Anesthesia?

"Ah, you do know my name! I'm flattered that a big star like you should recognise little old me!"

Now that Reiko had adjusted her thinking she did indeed recall Anesthesia. The woman had been on the Rumble Roses circuit for quite some time, but had never progressed far in any of the competitions. Reiko attributed this to a lack of will power, allied to an unwillingness to get hurt, rather than the absence of skill, speed or strength. Anesthesia excelled in the area of submissions and counters – in the former she was unrivalled in her viciousness - and she had a reputation for fouling and dirty tricks. Her usual ring costume was a nurse's uniform, and it was this that had led to the temporary confusion about her identity.

What slightly surprised Reiko, meeting Anesthesia for the first time in the flesh, was the contrast between her stunning Latino looks and her very British speech and manners. Reiko was unfamiliar with the subtleties of English accents, but she was vaguely aware that Anesthesia did not quite speak in the refined style of ladies in old-fashioned period films. Her voice though rich and cultured had a more than slight regional twang. It seemed likely that she was either born, or had spent some considerable time in the UK. But there was little hint of any British ancestry in her appearance, which was typically Latin. A long, though delicate nose, straight at the bridge, curving at the tip; quite angular cheekbones, low arched eyebrows, a wide, sensuous mouth. Her eyes were startlingly blue amidst her rich dark tan. Eyes that seemed to laugh at everything and everyone.

Reiko felt a little uncomfortable at the other's enthusiastic friendliness. She said, "I'm not really a big star."

"Stuff and nonsense! In Japan you're huge! They just don't know you here that well yet. I'm delighted to meet you at last. Of course, I remember your mother too."

Reiko noticed that Anesthesia pointedly ignored Aisha, even though she was standing close by. Reiko sensed this was greatly irking the singer, so used to being the centre of attention. She asked, "You knew my mother?"

"Oh yes. I had the privilege of attending on her medically. I am a nurse by profession. Such a tragic accident – but I hope I'm not upsetting you?"

Reiko _did_ feel upset but tried not to show it. "Were you there the night she died?"

"I was – and I can tell you that there was nothing that could be done. But then …" Anesthesia's blue eyes flashed a suddenly penetrating look in Reiko's direction, "…you know the circumstances well enough, don't you?"

Reiko felt increasingly uneasy in the woman's presence. "I know there was no medical explanation given for her death in the ring."

"Yes, that was the strange thing, wasn't it?" Anesthesia seemed to be musing for a moment. Then suddenly returning to her overly blithe manner, "You must be proud to have such a famous mum. I notice you always dedicate your matches to her. I suppose it's been difficult to live up to."

Reiko said, "I'm not sure I …"

"Well, growing up, knowing what a star she was, and then I guess, she would've pushed you pretty hard …"

"It wasn't really …"

"You know, my parents were just like that. They were poor people made good, and they were determined I was going to succeed. So they sent me to a world famous private school in England." For the first time a scowl crossed Anesthesia's face. "I hated it there. But that didn't stop me qualifying with top marks in medicine and science and, of course, I was captain of the wrestling team as well."

"Huh!" Aisha, clearly tired at being excluded from the conversation, chose this moment to barge into it. "Can't remember the last time a Brit team member achieved anything in _this_ competition, sista."

"Aisha." Anesthesia gave the singer an amused look. "It seems such a long time since we were last ... together."

"Its bin a while," Aisha said coolly. "I don't recall exactly when."

Anesthesia grinned, "But _I _do. Wasn't it shortly after Dixie kicked the hell out of you? And then your next album flopped badly. I suppose some people can't lose gracefully. But I hope I was able to be some comfort, in my humble way."

Aisha said sarcastically, "Sure it was always a great comfort to me that your arse was mine whenever I wanted it."

Anesthesia laughed out loud. It was not a pleasant laugh. "Oh my, such a charmer! You know, Aisha, you won't ever have to worry about losing touch with your roots. No matter how big a star you become, that aura of the streets always clings to you."

Reiko could practically feel Aisha's hackles rising and suggested hastily, "Maybe we should all have another drink."

"What a good idea! What'll be? No wait, don't tell me! I'll get you both something that I'm sure you'll like." Anesthesia turned towards the bar.

Clearly not caring whether the nurse was out of earshot, Aisha growled, "Reiko, lets lose this pseudo-Brit creep first chance we get." Reiko shrugged her shoulders helplessly.

"Now let me see – this is for you, Reiko, and …" Anesthesia screwed her face up like someone handing a glass of urine to a particularly smelly beggar "here's yours, Aisha."

"Vodka martini on the rocks!" Reiko was astonished. "My favourite drink! How could you …?"

"Very simple, my dear!" Anesthesia wore a smug expression. "I make it my business to familiarise myself with my opponents. That includes any predilections they might be known to have, or have talked about in interviews. For example I happen to know you like ice cream, the colour red, and …" Anesthesia gave an even larger smirk "something about your romantic preferences, of course."

Reiko's cheeks matched the colour of her dress.

Aisha was unmoved. She said, "Something sure went wrong with your research then. Whisky sour is about my least favourite tipple, sista."

Anesthesia put a hand to her head, shaking it in mock sorrow, "Alas, even Homer nods."

Reiko asked, "But how can knowing what I like to drink help you?"

"Psychology, my dear! I have studied it extensively and even small details can lead to a bigger picture. Most people have things they want to hide, I look for clues as to what they are. For therapeutic purposes, naturally." Anesthesia smiled at Reiko's obvious discomfort at the direction of the conversation. "You know, you really should pay a visit to my clinic. I'm sure it would be revealing and, of course, healing."

Reiko said firmly but politely. "Thank you, but I prefer to discuss personal matters with my friends."

Anesthesia pouted her lips in disappointment. "I am mortified! We seemed to be getting on so well I thought I could count myself amongst them. Still if you change your mind …" She handed Reiko a business card.

Aisha decided to intervene again. She drawled, "Reiko said she ain't interested, so why don't ya take a hint, and take a hike, sista? I don't recall invitin' ya to drag your arse along with us, for sure."

The nurse's smile had become distinctly brittle, her words like acid drops coated in sugar. "How unfriendly! And I was about to suggest you sign up for my treatment as well. Considering all the neuroses you obviously have."

The pop star's face took on a thunderous appearance. She said tightly, "And what exactly might _those be?"_

Drawing out each word with relish, Anesthesia said succulently. "They're clearly hang-ups of a sexual nature. And with the amount of time you must have spent on your knees in front of record studio executives I imagine they're pre-tty …"

The rest of the nurse's psychological analysis could only be guessed at, because at this precise point Aisha punched her hard in the stomach, causing her to double up groaning. The singer followed up this attack in classical pugilist style with a ferocious uppercut, sending Anesthesia tumbling backwards onto a table which collapsed, its contents flying in all directions, but especially over the nurse's designer dress.

Anesthesia regained her feet with difficulty, rubbing her jaw, her hair and clothes bedraggled. Reiko thought she had never seen an expression of such hatred on someone's face before.

"Miserable back-alley slut!" she snarled. "That was assault! Everyone saw it! I will sue you to the ends of the earth. I promise you'll regret this every day of your life, you harlot!"

While Anesthesia continued this tirade, the security staff, a heavily built African-American male and an almost equally formidable looking white woman, arrived on the scene and placed themselves between the combatants. Anesthesia pointed at Aisha.

"She attacked me! Throw her out!"

The female bouncer seemed unmoved by the nurse's appeal. She said respectfully, "Is there a problem, Miss Aisha?"

"Just some li'l ho' can't keep a cap on her mouth, Elise," Aisha purred smoothly.

"Don't worry, Miss Aisha, we'll deal with it." Both bouncers grabbed hold of Anesthesia and started dragging her towards the emergency exit.

"Wait …you can't … she was the one who …" but the nurse's protests were ignored.

"If she struggles, Elise, you can try that special arm lock I used for my last victory."

"I know the one you mean, Miss Aisha," the bouncer said grimly. "I watch all your matches. Its like _this_, isn't it?" Anesthesia gave a horrible scream as her arm was twisted into an unnatural shape.

"I'll see you in hell for this!" she shrieked, before being propelled rapidly through the double doors and into the street.

"And don't come back …" Elise didn't miss the opportunity to deliver a classic bouncer line.

"Thank you." Aisha's stone-like features were the definition of unruffled cool. "Drop me a line, if ya need any tickets for my matches or concerts." Turning to Reiko, she said, "I've had enough entertainment for tonight. Whad'dya say we get outa here and get something to eat?"

Reiko nodded dumbly.

"Drink up then." Aisha tipped the whisky sour into the slops, and signalled to the bartender. "Pour me a proper one, please."

* * *

Throughout the meal at a nearby high-class restaurant, Reiko noticed that Aisha was making a visible effort to be as charming as possible. Like a good hostess, she talked only enough to encourage her "guest" to open up. Her head spinning with an unaccustomed amount of wine, the young Japanese woman found herself getting carried away with excitement at having the undivided attention of the famous singer. Something of the magic of the evening spoilt by Anesthesia's intervention returned. As she spoke about wrestling, her home and her impression of the US, Reiko was aware of Aisha's gaze fixed upon her, great brown eyes intent as if she found Reiko and her conversation the most fascinating subject in the world. She should would often smile at Reiko's witticisms, nod at her insights, laugh discreetly at her jokes.

Occasionally though, Reiko would catch her with a rather world-weary expression, a distracted look as if she had other things on her mind. She wondered then how much of the pop star's true self was shielded behind a mask of cool street talk and style.

She asked, suddenly, "Are you worried that Anesthesia will make trouble for you?"

"That crazy-arse woman? No, not really." Aisha sounded tired. "I got pretty good lawyers." Shooting Reiko a direct glance. "That's not what's buggin' me tonight. See, I've made some… questionable decisions in the past. And hookin' up with that whack nurse was sure one of them. I guess you know 'bout me and Dixie by now …" Reiko nodded. "So you probably heard how we split up? Well I was tryin' to tell Dix' how it wasn't like she thought it was, but I don't know whether it got through."

Reiko said, "I'm not sure I understand."

"That's 'cos it's a li'l embarrassing for me to explain. I told Dix I was having an affair, well that I'd had a lotta affairs. Only it weren't true. I just said it to piss her off, so she'd throw down the gauntlet, so to speak. But being the sorta person she is, I figured Dix'd ask around. So, knowin' the kinda lying bitch_ she_ was, I got Anesthesia to pretend we were an item. She was extremely convincing too, in fact she was lovin' the whole situation."

"So nothing really happened between you?"

Aisha looked a little uncomfortable. "Nothing _had _happened. I'm not sayin' nothing _did _happen. But I can tell ya it was short and not very sweet. That lady is one screwed-up mother …hey, you feelin' sleepy, Reiko?"

Reiko had given a tiny yawn. She was less fatigued and more in that dreamy, satisfied state of relaxation induced by talk, wine and good food.

The singer called a waiter and handed over her gold card. She said to Reiko, "Wanna go home an even easier way?" The Japanese woman nodded drowsily. Aisha produced her mobile and pressed the fast dial.

"Elena, you on stand-by like I told you? Good. Meet us on the roof of the Carlton building with the Raven. And make it snappy."

* * *

The city lights glittered beneath Reiko like a dreamscape, the slow steady beat of rotor blades lulling her into a trance. Her head nodded, and it felt natural to let it rest on Aisha's shoulder. Through the window, the world tilted, as the helicopter banked, turning towards the sea. Beyond the white line of the surf, fog banks rolled and swirled mysteriously, and further out still, the low lying dark land mass of the island hosting the tournament was just visible.

Aisha's glossy, perfumed hair nestled against Reiko's cheek. The singer murmured softly in her ear, "We'll be home before you know it."

"Home?" Reiko again wondered whether this was all a flight of fantasy.

"Yeah, home. My home. I invite you to stay for the night at my mansion."

Reiko turned her head slightly to look at Aisha, but her eyes were closed. _Whut, whut, whut_ went the rotors, as the helicopter flew on through the darkness.

* * *

Reiko looked around her in surprise. The furnishings were expensive and luxurious enough to be sure, but in spite of its obvious commodiousness, the living room did not quite fit in with the idea of the grand, palatial dwelling place she imagined Aisha's mansion would be. Fuddled as her mind was with drink and drowsiness, she tried as discreetly as she could to convey this opinion to its owner.

"Grand?" The singer seemed unfazed. "Yeah, you'll find plenty of rooms like that in the main building, white marble pillars, fountains and all. To impress the run-of-the-mill visitors; ya don't need to see 'em now. This wing of the mansion is for _special _guests. It's got three of the ten bedrooms upstairs …" she indicated a spiralling stairway. "Then through that partition is a home cinema; the screen rises out of the floor. Next to the helipad's a tennis court, and there's a swimming pool through those French windows. And underground, there's a wine cellar. Everything here's mainly for comfort while still being the most expensive money can buy. I always get the best; why shouldn't I if I kin afford it?" Reiko nodded uncertainly. "Speaking of wine, how about we open a bottle of Dom Romane Conti? It goes nice with nachos."

Reiko raised her hand in remonstrance. "Really, I think I've had enough to drink, certainly enough to eat."

"Hey, there's no such thing as enough to drink!" Aisha gave a wink. "Ma body may be a temple, but now and then I get me the urge to desecrate it." Seeing Reiko's worried look she added reassuringly, "Ok, I understand. You're still in the tournament; ya don't wanna push out the boat too much. How about we have us a swim, maybe watch a movie?"

Reiko said, "But I haven't got a swimsuit with me?"

Aisha grinned broadly, "Not a problem. What are your measurements?"

"34-26-33. At least, they were a week ago, but …"

"I think we might have something in your size. There's a cloakroom through here, if I remember rightly. See, I only recently bought this place, for the tournament. Sometimes even I get lost in it."

Feeling as if she was being carried along on a wave of events out of her control, Reiko followed the singer somewhat irresolutely. The swimsuit chosen for her with swift efficiency was undoubtedly gorgeous and, like the one Aisha had chosen to wear, more resembling a piece of lingerie from a specialist boutique. While the singer's had a gold shine which somehow managed to look transparent, Reiko's was silvery, soft and gauzy, clinging sensually to her form.

The pool had the kind of blue transparency which came of regular cleaning and maintenance, shimmering under strong but discreet lighting. Aware of her freight of food and drink, Reiko used the steps to wade tentatively into the warm, relaxing embrace of the shallow end. Aisha in contrast fearlessly mounted the high board at the far end, leaping off to perform a classically elegant dive, entering the water with surprisingly little splashing for a woman of her formidable build. She glided under the surface as swiftly and powerfully as a reef shark, a trail of bubbles following in her wake.

Reiko struck out for the middle of the pool, using an improvised breast stroke. She looked down and around herself in half-serious apprehension, as Aisha circled below her. Suddenly Aisha burst from the water, slipping both arms over Reiko's shoulders and neck, wrapping her legs round the Japanese woman's, sinking down again to duck her. For an instant, Reiko struggled, a rerun of the moment in the fight flashing through her mind. But this time she was almost immediately borne back up to the surface.

White teeth sparkling, fingering her corn silk coloured strands of hair, Aisha gasped, "If I'm gonna have myself a re-style, so are you." Reiko self-consciously brushed the wet ringlets hanging over her forehead, and Aisha continued. "Don't worry. Ya still look pretty. With those soft brown eyes y'always will. Warm, no harm in 'em."

Reiko blushed at the compliment. Aisha's face was close to her own, that special kind of closeness which occurs in water, where the normal rules of personal space often seem not to apply. The strong 'v' of her bosom filled Reiko's vision, little runnels of water trickling down it. She marvelled at how quickly intimacy had grown between herself and the pop idol. Could it be because Aisha, while making no secret of her high opinion of herself, treated everyone she met in the same way, never talking down to them, and for the most part conversing in a frank and open fashion? It occurred to her then that in this, as in many other respects, Aisha resembled Dixie, just as the Texan had herself acknowledged. While you could never feel entirely safe with her, you mostly knew where she was coming from. Feeling relaxed in her presence felt natural, the measureless depths of her eyes holding the younger woman as though under a spell.

A tiny corner of Reiko's mind retained Dixie's words, _'She can fascinate ya, like a snake.' _But they remained there, in the darkness of unremembered things.

They had changed themselves out of their bikinis and into matching dressing gowns, using adjoining bathrooms, "there's about fifteen of 'em but I've lost count." Reiko didn't resist when Aisha took her by the hand, leading her up the spiral stairs to the bedroom. The idea of watching a movie seemed to have been abandoned.

"And this here's where you kin sleep; I guarantee you'll not find a bigger, more comfortable four-poster." Reiko just about had time to register the item in question in the dimly lit room: large, mahogany, shrouded by filmy white curtains, next to a half-open window through which faint traces of fog were drifting.

The next moment, Aisha had wrapped her in an embrace so sudden, unexpected and crushingly powerful that she could not refrain from gasping. At the same time the singer pulled Reiko's mouth to hers, pressing her lips close in a deep kiss. In surprise and shock, Reiko was overwhelmed by the feeling of Aisha's tongue sensuously probing her throat, unable to draw breath immediately, as the singer's warm lips slid against hers.

Aisha finally released Reiko from the kiss, but giving her no time to recover, unbelted the front of her gown and, moving closer, slid one hand inside to circle Reiko's left breast, the other lower to caress her inner thighs. Almost reeling in confusion, Reiko felt her body urging her to give herself over to the delightful feelings, at the same time that her mind was protesting at this brusque ravishment. The exquisite sensation of first Aisha's fingers, then her lips, teasing her aroused flesh, provoked in her a wave of ecstasy that threatened to bypass her central cortex and flood the most primitive areas of her brain with demands for more and more pleasure. She felt she had no choice but to surrender, offer up her body, submit. As she let her head fall onto Aisha's shoulder, her unfocused gaze took in the pure, white bed curtains, trembling in the night breeze.

_And on a table beside them a vase of flowers, blacker than the wings of midnight._

Reiko felt as if cold water were rushing down her spine. The pleasure-seeking, wildly abandoned side of her vanished like smoke. She took a firm grip on Aisha's shoulders, pushed her strongly away.

She said, "I can't do this."

Emotions cascaded across the singer's shocked face almost too quickly to perceive: acute disappointment, frustrated lust, blazing anger, finally controlled fury.

"All right. You can't. Now get the hell out."

Wiping the damp sweat from her forehead, Reiko groped to find her clothing. She was excruciatingly aware of Aisha watching her, breathing heavily, her visage like a storm cloud, and just wanted to be out of the mansion and away.

As Reiko struggled to put her dress on as quickly as possible, Aisha said brusquely, "Didn't have ya figured as a li'l tease. What changed your mind?"

Forcing her hips into the tight garment, Reiko shook her head helplessly. How could she explain? She said, "I'm sorry, I really am, but …"

"Sorry? I could make ya so sorry that … ah, dang it!" Aisha seemed to master herself with a mighty effort. "Go on, go home. Go home to Dixie, if that's what ya want. I'll call ya the limo. But remember this … Aisha took hold of Reiko's chin, held her face close. "You were tempted, weren't ya? If I didn't know that was true, you'd be walking home. And now you'll wonder forever what it would've been like. I can tell ya, it would've been sweeter than your wildest dreams. Ask Cowgirl if ya don't believe me."

Reiko had nothing more to say. She gathered her things together, and left the building, not looking back.

* * *

*I have to own up here: the phrase "blacker than the wings of midnight" owes more than a little to Edgar Allen Poe's _Ligeia_. I didn't steal it directly, it just came into my head, and then I eventually wondered from where. If you want to read a masterwork of Gothic horror by a truly great American writer, you need look no further than that.

This is the first part of the story that's needed extensive recent additions to be made. Does it show?

Dom Romane Conti 1997 is, as far as I'm aware, the most expensive wine in the world.*


	10. Girls on Film

Chapter Ten Girls on Film

As the early morning light crept into her room, Reiko's mobile started to oscillate on the glass side table, resounding in her aching head like a pneumatic drill. She'd forgotten to turn the vibrations off when she'd switched it to silent the previous night. She tried to muffle the noise by hiding her head underneath the snow-white sheets, rolling over to the other side of the double bed, left vacant as Dixie was sleeping in the other bedroom. The phone stopped buzzing, then started again.

Reiko waited for it to finish, then threw off the sheets to examine it. An unknown caller was registered, and no voicemail had been left. Reiko stared at the slightly blurred digits, then winced as a stab of pain shot through her head. She went in search of water, an aspirin and some breakfast.

Returning half an hour later, she contemplated the phone again. Her friends would know she was normally an early riser, but a stranger seemed unlikely to call at such a time. It was probably a wrong number.

Even as she watched, the phone began to thrum. Impulsively she picked it up, and pressed to accept the call.

For a moment there was silence. Reiko said, "Yes?"

After a pause, a woman's voice said in soft-accented Japanese, "Is that Reiko Hinomoto?"

"Who is this, please?" Reiko replied in the same language.

"We have met in the ring. It's Benikage."

"Benikage!" In spite of her hangover, Reiko felt a thrill of excitement. "Why are you calling me so early?"

"I am sorry." The ninja's voice was low, uncertain. "I thought you might be awake. I wanted to talk to you as soon as possible."

"Is it something important?"

Again there was hesitation. "I wish to ask a favour; and time is short."

Reiko said, "Go ahead and ask; I'll see what I can do."

"I imagine you know the organisers have requested – have _required_ all competitors to take part in a photo shoot with their tag partners once their participation in the tournament ends. A photo shoot in swimwear."

"Yes – and so?"

"Aisha is refusing to cooperate. She gives no reason but … " The resentment in Benikage's voice was unmistakable. "The directors are saying I must still do the shoot, alone if necessary. They threaten legal action and adverse publicity otherwise. Against me - not against Aisha." In a bitter tone. "She is too big a star but I am not. It is unfair."

Reiko said, "I suppose so, but why not do the shoot anyway? It'll be fun."

"It is because you think so that I'm calling you. I have no experience of this kind of event. I do not know what to do … and I am nervous. I was hoping that you could help me."

Reiko said, "Why me? We've barely met."

"I have seen your publicity work in Japan. You are one of our most famous stars. I almost feel that I know you. And you always seem so … kind." Forlornly, the ninja added, "I suppose that sounds foolish."

Reiko said, "I guess plenty of my fans feel the same. If you really believe I can be of assistance – and no one else is available, then of course I will help. I will even do the shoot with you, if it fits into my schedule."

Benikage said, "I'm afraid it's ten o'clock, this morning. However the location is nearby on the island, and the crew assured me they'd provide any transport to and from it. You just need to get ready to leave and they'll do everything else."

Reiko felt a throb in her temple like an echo of her earlier headache. She was beginning to regret her impetuous promise. _Why must I always be so obliging?_

She said, "I was out very late last night, and …"

Benikage said, a little sulkily "Well, if you really are unable …"

"Hey, hold on! I didn't say I wouldn't! But I'm supposed to be going to see Makoto and Aigle's match this afternoon. What if there isn't time?"

Benikage said, "There will be. It's only a two and a half hour shoot. I also very much wish to see the match. We can go together."

Reiko sighed. "Ok, I'll do it. You'd better give me the art director's number."

* * *

The set was a white fronted beach house with broad terraces, dotted with sunshades and palm trees. There was a plaza to one side surrounding a swimming pool. A roped off section held a small, noisy set of onlookers, and a corps of journalists and media photographers. As Reiko arrived in an official open-top car, some enthusiastic snapping began, and she had to steel herself to avoid wincing at the shouting and explosion of flashbulbs, the latter perhaps unnecessary in the bright sunshine. She had decided, mostly for practical reasons, to dress informally in very short cut-offs and a tight white t-shirt. Her head still felt a little tender, but she kept smiling bravely in spite of the whistling and cheering making it throb painfully.

Once away from the _paparazzi, _she sought out the art director, a smartly-dressed, middle-aged woman, with an air of easy professionalism. After explaining some details about the shoot, the woman added, "Your partner's inside, in the central room with the skylight. I'd go and chat with her if I were you. She seems real nervous. We told her the make-up team wouldn't be long, but she keeps complaining about delays."

Reiko entered the white spaciousness of the modernist building, the cool of the air conditioning giving her some relief. The tiled, wide corridors and elegant, clean perspectives soothed her sensibilities. She easily found the room the director had described, sunlight slanting through a square opening in the ceiling. A row of mirrors occupied one wall and Benikage was leaning pensively against a counter in front of them. Even though she was still masked, Reiko could tell from her tense posture that the ninja was ill at ease, perhaps even more so than during her ring entrance. She wore a tan leather jumpsuit, which Reiko was a little surprised to see unzipped down to her navel, exposing her black brassiere, but she supposed she had been getting ready to change.

Reiko embraced her, pecking her cheek and exchanging customary greetings, introducing herself in as friendly a manner as she could manage. Observing that the _kunoichi_ remained downcast, she said brightly "I'm sure the make-up artist will be here soon. Try to relax."

The slender woman absently twisted a strand of her long, dark hair, and looked downwards. "How can I? I'm afraid that everyone will laugh at my ineptitude. You see … I have not done anything like this before and …" A rosy tinge coloured her cheeks.

Reiko smiled encouragingly. She said, "Well there really isn't very much to it. You just follow the directions that the camera crew give you, and look pretty." She saw that Benikage wasn't greatly cheered, and went on. "The most important thing is to say to yourself 'I am beautiful'. Then you will act naturally and with confidence, and everything will be fine."

The ninja put a hand up to her face, encountering the mask. She said in a low voice, "But … I do not think that I am beautiful."

Reiko said gently, "Come and sit down." She seated Benikage facing the mirrored walls, sat down by her. "Most women can be beautiful, if they try, at least to someone. Its just this ability that we have, if we let ourselves." She put an arm on her companion's shoulder. "I think you know this in your heart, but you hold back. You don't have to be afraid."

Again Benikage touched the hard, canine features. Then shaking her head, she said pleadingly, "I cannot!"

Reiko said, "You need to let yourself go. I know your mask is important to you. But it prevents you from being the person you could be." Sensing the need to give further reassurance, she said. "If you're still nervous, you could wear sunglasses."

"That's what Aisha said before the match." Reiko could hear the resentment in the ninja's voice.

"And I'll bet she didn't ask too politely, did she?" Reiko drew back a little. "I'm not going to force you to do anything. I just think it would be good for you. Its your decision."

Benikage said, "I don't know if I…" Her dark eyes raised to meet Reiko's.

Reiko said, softly but firmly, "Will you at least allow me to try?" When the inquiry met no protest, she reached forward slowly with both hands to touch the _kunoichi's _cheeks. On contact, Benikage flinched. Reiko whispered, "Its alright." The ninja shut her eyes, submissively, and Reiko carefully prised the mask away from her face, put it aside.

Gently, she turned the slender woman's head back towards the mirror. She said, "You see. You _are_ very beautiful."

The reflected face was oval, with smooth, exquisite features. The large, sensitive eyes now perfectly offset the fine, delicate nose, and small rosy lips, the chin forming an elegant point. The fine-drawn brows and dark hair falling like water contrasted with clear skin the colour of the purest pale coral.

On an impulse, Reiko stroked the soft cheek. Benikage turned towards her, eyes full of tears. Reiko said, "You don't have to hide yourself from everyone anymore."

Faintly, Benikage said, "Thank you." She looked at her reflection again. "But I think I will wear sunglasses for the shoot."

"No problem. I'll get them to bring you some to choose." Reiko turned as an assistant entered the room. The woman looked a little embarrassed.

She said, "I'm afraid there's been a hold up with the photographers. The shoot could be delayed for up to an hour."

"Oh no!" Reiko's mouth turned down in disappointment. "We were hoping to attend Makoto and Aigle's match. We'll barely have time to get there as it is."

The woman said, "I'm really sorry, but we couldn't possibly reschedule any longer. We'd have to cancel. The press and public are here waiting. I regret to remind you of this, but its in your contract that…"

"Yes, yes, you don't have to tell us." Reiko turned back to Benikage. "What can we do?"

The _kunoichi_'s voice was low but agitated. She said urgently. "It is imperative that I watch the match. All other considerations are secondary."

Surprised at her intensity, Reiko said, "But you're out of the competition! You don't need to check out the opposition. And I was going mostly to support Makoto."

The ninja hesitated. She said, "Observation of other competitors is always of primary importance."

"I guess. You remind me of Anesthesia! Well, kinda."

The assistant interjected, "We have a satellite link and a HDTV plasma screen in the building. As soon as the shoot's over, you can watch the match on it."

Reiko asked Benikage, "Will that do? We should probably avoid making too much fuss over this."

The ninja demanded of the assistant. "Would it be possible to change between different camera angles on the television?"

The woman said, "I should think so, but I'll check for you."

"Then that will have to be sufficient."

The assistant nodded and left. Reiko said, "For a moment I thought you were going to leave me there with my butt out to dry. Thanks for sticking with it."

Benikage made a single esoteric gesture. "It is I who should be thankful."

* * *

_The shoot went so well, and it was all due to you._

She would remember afterwards the smell of sun-warmed limbs, the automated clicking of shutters, the bright colours of swimsuits, parasols and lie lows, the glitter of the pool, the blue of the distant sea, the feel of the sand between her toes

When she wasn't concentrating on following the camera crew's instructions as best she could, she mostly watched Reiko. The younger woman had a glow about everything she did: she posed naturally, she joked with the photographers and press, she chatted knowledgeably about camera angles and effects of the light, giving advice to her companion without either patronising or criticizing her.

Benikage was sure too that Reiko had secretly persuaded the organisers to let her wear something a bit less revealing. The combination of her rose pink costume and the sunglasses Reiko helped her choose had some of the team talking about "that Fifties look". Benikage didn't understand what they meant; she only knew that she felt womanlier than she had ever felt before, and that by the end of the shoot, she'd begun to enjoy herself, even consenting to chase Reiko around with a water gun.

Reiko had simply persuaded her to take off her mask, and everything else had followed. It had given her the confidence to see herself as a desirable woman.

_She doesn't do these things to inflate her ego, or to manipulate people; she does it because she cares: about being professional, about being kind to others._

_I think she cares about me. She told me I was beautiful._

_She is the friend I have dreamt of having. The friend I cannot now bear to lose. Yet it may come to that._

As predicted by the assistant, the shoot had overrun, and the only practical way to see Makoto's match was on TV, but Benikage had almost stopped worrying about this.

_It has been a good time. A time of pleasure. But the time has come for me to do my work again._

_Reiko cannot be the person I seek. I would sense the stench of evil. The perpetrator is one of the other contestants, and may intend to do her harm._

_I cannot – I will not - allow that to happen._

_

* * *

_*Hands up those that noticed Benikage was wearing something very like Eva's costume from Metal Gear Solid, minus the glasses. Of course its also an unlockable costume for Rumble Roses XX.*


	11. Great Beautiful Strong Pair

Chapter Eleven Great Beautiful Strong Pair

The plasma television glowed into life.

"I hope we've not missed … oh, its ok, they haven't made their entrance yet."

Reiko settled herself onto a comfortable black leather settee. Next to her Benikage had taken control of the remote. They had the viewing room to themselves. On the screen, _The Axis of Evil_, Makoto and Aigle's opponents, were already lounging insolently in their corner. Anesthesia wore her usual sexed-up nurses uniform, cut away at the belly, with a short tight skirt, while her partner was costumed as a devil in red latex, complete with horned mask, and a long, barbed tail.

Reiko muttered, "I thought the organisers said only swimwear was allowed. Funny kind of clothes for the beach."

Benikage turned up the sound, and they caught the commentary coming from surround speakers "…the third tag debutante is Evil Rose, and from what we've seen so far that's a pretty good description of her disposition."

Using the remote, Benikage switched to a camera showing a view of the pair from slightly below. Anesthesia's white-lace stockings filled the screen. Reiko murmured impatiently and glanced at the ninja. She had a strange smile on her face. Taking the hint, the _kunoichi_ changed the angle again, this time to a close-up of Evil Rose.

Reiko shuddered, "Oh … her eyes."

Evil Rose was staring straight into the camera. The full-face mask showed two red slits where the eyes should have been.

Benikage grunted and said shortly, "Contacts."

The camera panned down, rather voyeuristically taking in Evil Rose's prominent, well-sized bosom, focusing on a tattoo upon her left breast. It appeared to be the image of a demon's head and wings.

The shot altered to a _deutch _angle of Anesthesia's face and upper torso, the camera held below and tilted. The nurse seemed to be looking down on the viewer aslant, smiling ominously, hand on chin. Reiko wondered if she was also covering the bruise from her encounter with Aisha, but when Anesthesia suddenly removed her hand, no mark could be seen. Reiko supposed it was masked by a combination of careful make up and a heavy tan.

There was a sudden burst of melodious music. A voice announced, "Makoto Aihara and Aigle, the Great, Beautiful, Strong Pair!"

Reiko rubbed her hands excitedly. "I've been really looking forward to their entrance. It sounds so cute! You see, they start by adjusting the bows in each other's hair, then they walk together holding hands, then …"

Benikage grunted again. The screen was showing the columned entrance backdrop. Blue velvet curtains were pulled aside to reveal Makoto Aihara. She was standing alone.

Reiko gave an exclamation of surprise. "But that's not …"

Makoto seemed uncertain and embarrassed. Her cheeks red, she bowed nervously in all directions, then looked backwards, perhaps hoping for some support. Receiving none, she advanced tentatively along the walkway, swinging her arms a little too much, wearing an old-fashioned, almost Victorian-style bathing costume.

Reiko said, "Hmmm, if she'd asked me … still it suits her in a kind of a retro way."

Benikage asked, "What can be wrong? Where is Aigle?" The words had scarcely passed her lips when the nomad appeared.

Her swimsuit, like Makoto's, was fairly conservative, a one-piece affair that revealed only a moderate amount of cleavage. However the Mongolian wrestler had considerably more of this to boast about. Her small but well-muscled frame seemed to be almost bursting from the costume. Her jet-black hair and fine, strong features held a wild and brooding beauty.

It appeared that something had occurred to arouse the nomad's temper. She had a glowering expression on her face, and took long, angry strides. While this was hardly unusual behaviour for a wrestler and the daughter of a warrior race, it wasn't in the cutesy script Reiko was expecting.

She said, "Oh, no, they must've quarrelled about something! What could it be? I hope it won't effect their teamwork."

That the _Great, Beautiful Strong Pair _could have a problem with team spirit was becoming increasingly obvious. The looks between them were in stark contrast to the bounciness of their signature tune, which carried on regardless of how cheesily false it had come to sound. Once in the ring, the two wrestlers continued to ignore each other, staying as far apart as possible, until the preliminaries were completed. Then, with a sulky expression, the Mongolian took up her position in the corner, and an apprehensive looking Makoto advanced to face off with Anesthesia.

Unsurprisingly the nurse was making the most of Makoto's inexperience and hesitancy, drawing herself up to her full height, hands on hips, and shaking her head in disbelief.

"You're a judo gold medallist? Small – and you don't look very strong."

Makoto replied stoutly enough, "Better to bend than to break, wrestling's no different."

"Oh, but you will break my dear. Run away now while you still can."

Anesthesia's jibes seemed to be getting through to Makoto. "Stop making fun of me! Let's do this!"

"You're so cute, little one, let's see what you've got."

In a typical opener, Makoto charged, attempting a low takedown. Speed was one of her main assets, but Anesthesia anticipated the move, and slid even lower to trip the Judo Babe. Before Makoto could react, Anesthesia was entwined around her like a snake, applying a submission hold. Perhaps surprised that the nurse would even try this so early in the fight, Makoto took longer than expected to wriggle free.

As both regained their feet, Anesthesia said, mockingly, "Have you got so slow in the head? That comes of spending too much time with peasants."

Almost as if bewitched by the nurse's words, Makoto did seem to be moving rather slowly, shaking her head slightly. Her next charge was clumsier and even more predictable. Anesthesia countered with a lashing kick with her long legs, but didn't bother to follow it up this time. A pattern was established. Anesthesia continued to easily avoid Makoto's more and more desperate lunges. She would occasionally strike back but mostly remained content to let the Judo Babe tire herself out. At the same time, she gave Makoto nothing to feed off in terms of her own counters.

Eventually Anesthesia appeared to tire of playing cat and mouse. "That's enough foreplay. Its time for - a Touch of Evil."

Anesthesia tagged, and Evil Rose bounded into the ring. She had a strange, low, crouching gait like an animal's and the ring mikes picked up her fast, panting breaths. It was almost as if Makoto were confronting a wild beast in the arena.

Evil Rose stole forward, her movements exaggeratedly feline, as though she were a mime artist attempting to portray a leopard or other large member of the cat family. Makoto remained for a moment rooted to the spot, hypnotised by this outlandish display. Then she seemed to come to herself. As the rubber-clad wrestler advanced, the Judo babe snaked out a leg and executed her signature move, _Tornado Form_, a sweeping throw of immense power. Evil Rose crashed to the ground and, with a shade less speed than normal, Makoto prepared to follow up the attack on an opponent she naturally expected to be stunned.

Instead the devil in red gave a wild, bestial cry, and kicked upwards, flinging Makoto back, and at the same time, leaping back to her feet. Seamlessly she counter-attacked with a combination of fierce kicks and punches of such strength that they completely swept aside Makoto's wavering defence. She was forced back onto the ropes, cowering away from the punishing blows that continued to pummel her, eventually collapsing to the canvas. Nimbly Evil Rose vaulted onto the ring apron, then hand-sprung over the ropes in a huge leap that ended with her landing feet first on the small, prone figure. Reiko clapped her hands to her ears to shut out the Judo Babe's agonised shriek.

Evil Rose pinned Makoto down with her legs, at the same time holding out an arm for Anesthesia to tag. The nurse casually strolled forward to comply, taking over control of the helpless young wrestler.

An outraged Reiko yelled at the screen, "That tag was illegal! Why doesn't the referee call the foul?" Benikage shook her head disapprovingly.

Anesthesia was employing her speciality technique, a bridging submission hold known as _Flying Stretcher_, similar to Dixie's _Double Bridge Hold, _but even more vicious in that it very slowly and remorselessly drained away the victim's resistance, leaving her flapping uselessly to escape like a bird with a broken wing.

Reiko cried, "Oh, poor Makoto! Why isn't Aigle ready to rescue her?"

Instead of trying to help, the nomad had folded her arms, and was watching the spectacle of Makoto's humiliation with an expression of bored contempt. Anesthesia shifted her position slightly, so Makoto could see this, then began to taunt her.

"Oh, isn't your little friend coming to save you? Have you two fallen out? What could you have done to make her so angry with you?"

Makoto could only respond with gasps; it seemed only a matter of time before she would have to submit.

Suddenly the tannoy system coughed into life with a buzz of feedback. A voice announced emotionlessly, "Code violation, _Axis of Evil_. Please release the hold. Disqualification will follow any further offence."

Reiko said, "Oh thank goodness! Why didn't they call it earlier, before she was so badly hurt?"

Anesthesia got to her feet, unruffled by the chorus of boos from the crowd. She watched, hands on hips, as Makoto crawled pathetically towards her corner. The official intervention seemed to have come almost too late for the Judo Babe. She was clearly all in, and scarcely had the strength to reach for Aigle's hand. With a grim look, the nomad silently made the tag.

Anesthesia confronted Aigle, wrinkling her nose and fanning the air.

She said, "Whew! What's that smell? Has someone let a goat into the ring?"

The nomad gave the nurse a puzzled glance. "What lady mean? All Aigle's goats clean animals."

"Well, you could've fooled me. And that look of yours would curdle their milk. Come on now." Anesthesia adopted the deceptively jovial manner of an ogre toying with its victim before eating it. "I know you're dying to tell us what's upset you. Why don't you get it off your chest?" Seeing the Mongolian was looking down at her own breasts in confusion, she added, "Did someone do something to offend you?"

Aigle regarded Anesthesia suspiciously, "Why lady want to know?"

"At my clinic I provide courses in anger management. I could sign you up for one – but first you have to tell me what made you angry?"

Aigle's brow darkened. "Creepy lady speak with serpent's tongue. Not care about Aigle. Aigle need no help. I have warrior's heart – warrior speak with hard blows." She slapped her thighs hard with her hands.

The nurse grinned derisively. "Play it like that if you want. My friend here will give you your fill of them. But I can guess what happened. You think people are your friends for one reason, and then it turns out to be quite a different one. Goats are simpler to handle."

So saying Anesthesia backed away and tagged with Evil Rose.

Aigle approached the bizarrely costumed figure with the kind of caution a hunter might adopt when tracking a rare and dangerous animal, raising her head as if to snuff for a distinctive scent. Her examination of her foe complete, she blew on her hands, and held herself ready.

"She uses all her senses. That is wise." Reiko started, for it was the first time the ninja had spoken during the fight.

"I hope she doesn't charge in like Makoto did. That woman's the very devil in disguise, for sure. She may try something tricky."

Reiko's fears looked about to be realised, as Aigle made a lunge forward. But at the last moment she checked herself, and as Evil Rose swung her leg in a roundhouse kick, Aigle caught the outstretched limb. She held it long enough to pull the unbalanced wrestler towards her and deliver a stunning open hand strike. Then she seized her dazed opponent round the waist, and clinging as tightly as if she were the mythical Proteus, used her weight to swing her across her body to the canvas, using the momentum to repeat the action a second time. After the subsequent impact, Aigle flipped back to her feet, leaving her adversary prone.

"Be careful now!" Reiko urged, under her breath.

Unlike Makoto, Aigle made no attempt to take control of her opponent on the ground at such an early stage. Instead she stamped down hard, perhaps hoping to weaken or infuriate the masked wrestler by humiliating her.

Benikage again spoke unexpectedly. "A true warrior does not fight like an unthinking barbarian, but with the head before the heart."

Almost as if to confirm the truth of the ninja's words, Evil Rose leapt back to her feet, and with a bestial roar, charged Aigle, arms outstretched. With no hint of discomposure, the nomad placed her boot firmly into her onrushing opponent's chest, then rolling backwards flung her over her head in a full sacrifice. The masked wrestler somersaulted through the air, her legs catching the top rope and bouncing her back ringwards to fall awkwardly on her back. While she was still writhing from the heavy fall, Aigle rushed in to follow up with an elbow drop, and once back upright, chopped downwards to pound her opponent with both fists clenched together.

Evil Rose remained on the canvas, gasping. Aigle raised an arm exultantly, and shouted, "You weak! Aigle is winning!"

Perceiving that her opponent was unwilling or unable to respond to this taunt, the nomad maintained the initiative by hauling her to her feet and swinging her like a hammer towards her own corner in an Irish Whip. Makoto was still too weak to attempt to double team, even if she had considered such a manoeuvre to be within the bounds of fairness. Aigle did not seem to need or want such help in any case. She charged like a battering ram to crush Evil Rose against the turnbuckle. Then seating her opponent on it, she took hold of her to execute another overhead throw, propelling the increasingly punch drunk wrestler back into the centre of the ring.

Despite falling like a sack of potatoes, Evil Rose began to stagger to her feet, perhaps driven by a desperate need to escape more punishment. Her partner was stretching out to make the tag, but the distance was too great, and Aigle was not about to let that happen. Sensing the moment for the _coup de grace _was near, the nomad initiated that move formerly known as _Mongolian BBQ_ but renamed, at Makoto's request, _Mongolian Fire_, which the Judo Babe thought more dignified. Whatever the designation, it involved Aigle stretching both arms backwards and outwards before whipping them forwards and together to repeatedly smash her opponent on the side of the head. Few were able to withstand this double barrage of blows, and as the fourth struck home, Aigle gave an ululating cry of triumph.

"Great Father, I fight magnificently and make tribe proud! Aigle is warrior!"

But Evil Rose did not fall. Instead she stood holding her head in her hands. From her mouth came a bubbling wailing, as though a demonic banshee had taken possession of her soul, and was shrieking its misery to the heavens. The continuing sound was blood curdling enough to make Reiko shudder, and as she glanced at her companion, she saw the ninja was leaning forward, eyes narrowed, unwaveringly focused on the spectacle.

Such behaviour was bizarre enough to make even the phlegmatic Mongolian step backwards, and Aigle's amazement was mingled with a hint of superstitious fear. However her pragmatic nature was such that any consternation was superseded by the desire to finish her opponent while she was at a disadvantage, unrestrained, as Makoto might have been, by any notions of chivalry. She grabbed for the distraught wrestler's legs, preliminary to lifting and pile driving her into ground with her finishing move, _White Doe_.

The events following occurred with the unexpected swiftness of summer lightning, yet seemed to Reiko to move at glacier speed inside a bubble of time that would remain forever frozen in her memory.

As Aigle began to take hold, the masked woman shook her head in the manner of one who seeks to free herself from a nightmare. She reached low to counter grapple the nomad, pulling her inwards, and with casual ease and strength hoisted her onto her shoulders, before slamming her forwards and down with unstoppable force. While Aigle lay stunned under the impact of the power bomb, her opponent executed a backwards somersault of near supernatural agility, her body describing a graceful arc and seeming to fly through the air until she was perched atop the turnbuckle. Then with the same balletic beauty so different to her previous stance and actions, she reversed the movement and plummeted like a descending angel towards her fallen foe.

The bone-crushing concussion could almost be felt rather than heard. Aigle screamed.

_She may have broken her leg. _But the phrase drifted through Reiko's head as though it were meaningless. She wet her lips, finding it difficult to form the words.

"So … _strange_."

Benikage asked quickly. "What is it?"

"I … I … That move. It was so like … so like the one our mother taught to my sister and I. And the style of it … the … artistry. That … grace … was something only Fujiko could achieve."

"Your sister is a professional wrestler like yourself? Surely someone else could copy her style?" The ninja sounded markedly offhand.

"Yes – but she …" Reiko fell silent. The television pictures showed Aigle laying flat in the ring, gasping, holding her leg, her face twisted in agony. Pitifully Makoto was crawling forward from her corner on her hands and knees, presumably to try to help her. But Evil Rose paid neither of them any mind. She continued holding her head, as if in terrible pain, and the ring mikes were picking up a low moaning, an almost animal-like noise.

Seemingly oblivious to the drama enacting in the ring, Benikage asked casually, "And where is your sister, now?"

The question caught Reiko by surprise, and she said, falteringly, "I … don't really know. I … haven't seen her for a long while."

The camera now focused on Anesthesia. She was approaching Evil Rose, and with a disdainful look, appeared to be offering to tag with her.

In a sudden movement, Evil Rose lowered her hands and violently shoved the nurse backwards. As her tag partner sprung back off the ropes, Evil Rose caught and lifted her and then almost nonchalantly threw her out of the ring. Anesthesia landed with a splash in the tidal pool, and lay cursing, holding her back. The masked wrestler resumed holding her head.

Continuing to watch expressionlessly, Benikage asked, "Did your sister ever undergo special training in the martial arts – at a monastery or temple for example?"

Feeling a little irritated at the distraction, Reiko leant forward to examine the screen, once again zooming in on Evil Rose's grimacing visage. Absently she said, "Most Japanese wrestlers employ martial arts techniques, of course. But, no, I'm sure she never went anywhere like that – at least not before she left Japan. We were close then, and she would've told me. Why do you ask?"

"Curiosity only." The ninja sounded disappointed, but Reiko was too involved in what was happening in the ring to wonder why.

Makoto was kneeling beside Aigle, seemingly trying to sooth her injuries. The nomad, however, kept her face resolutely turned away, a sign that she did not want, or could not admit to needing her partner's support. Evil Rose remained as before, but now a new development was taking place outside the tidal pool marking the edge of the fighting arena.

The camera had panned to take in an orderly procession making its way along the boardwalk leading to the moat. It consisted of three men and one woman, dressed in the white uniforms of medical orderlies. As they reached the water, the retractable bridge extended to allow them to cross.

Back in the ring, Makoto had regained her feet a little unsteadily, apparently defeated in her efforts to render assistance to Aigle. Reiko saw with astonishment that her features were contorted in what looked like anger, except that she could not recall ever seeing her friend lose her temper. With a shrill cry, Makoto charged Evil Rose from behind, an action which Reiko knew the Judo Babe would normally consider dishonourable.

As if she had eyes in the back of her head, the woman in red ceased her writhing long enough to flip Makoto out of the ring with a controlled speed and power in contrast to her earlier feral stance. The Japanese wrestler splashed into the sea trench, and remained huddled miserably next to Anesthesia who, after a brief contemptuous glance, ignored her, continuing to watch events in the ring with folded arms.

The medical team had sprung over the ropes with practised ease. All were Japanese, and the resemblance they bore to one another was notable, even when seen through the eyes of a compatriot such as Reiko. They were of a small build, yet wiry and muscular, faces almost as one in an aspect of passionless calm. The woman carried a doctor's bag, from which she now produced a hypodermic needle. This action caused a chorus of boos to break out from the watching audience. Undeterred, the white-coated men confidently approached Evil Rose, with the apparent intention of restraining her.

As soon as they were close enough, the afflicted wrestler lashed out, punching twice at one, and kicking at another. To Reiko's surprise, the medics easily dodged or blocked the attacks, and moving with great speed and fluidity, surrounded their reluctant patient. She continued to resist, but was unable to land any significant blows. Suddenly, one of the men stepped rapidly behind her, and placing a hand to the back of her neck, seemed to press with his fingers. Instantly the masked head slumped forward, lolling in disorientation, and the female medic quickly moved close enough to apply the hypodermic. Evil Rose staggered, and her befuddled movements suggested she was losing interest in her surroundings. Supporting her between them, two of the men began to haul her out of the ring. The booing was louder now and continuous, and here and there fists were raised in the crowd.

Reiko glanced at Benikage. The ninja was watching with apparent detachment, yet the young woman sensed in her a barely suppressed excitement, and stranger still, a vast satisfaction, as if the scene in front of them was playing out exactly as she had predicted or planned. But who could have anticipated … Reiko returned her attention to the screen, as a crackle from the tannoy temporarily quietened the jeers.

"Having previously warned contestants about illegal tagging, the Rumble Roses committee disqualifies Makoto Aihara, and awards the match to the _Axis of Evil_. Please do not attempt to leave the arena until medical personnel have completed their work."

Reiko said, "But … that's not fair."

Many in the crowd gave every sign of sharing Reiko's view, regarding this announcement as the final straw. Rather than obey the tannoy instruction, knots of onlookers were attempting to mount the boardwalk, to hinder the progress of the medics marching offstage with Evil Rose. Others were fording the pool surrounding the ring, or picking up stones and pieces of driftwood and hurling them indiscriminately.

Cameras were being disrupted or overturned, and the director seemed to be trying to cut away from the rioting, without much success. Using her control, Benikage switched to an overhead view of the ring. In the midst of the confusion Reiko spotted that Makoto's trainer and personal physician had reached Aigle's side, along with the distinctive figure of Miss Spencer, still dressed in her semi-formal clothes despite the heat.

The announcer was asking the crowd to remain calm - a request impossible in the circumstances – followed by a warning that violent and unruly behaviour would be suppressed by security. Another camera angle showed the muscle behind this threat. From one side of the stage, a blue wedge of figures in tactical vests and face-shielded helmets was moving towards the boardwalk. The flashes of a private security firm were visible on their uniforms, and they were already laying about themselves with batons on anyone within their reach. This aggressive response, rather than suppressing the riot, served to inflame the situation further.

Most of the crowd were now willingly or unwillingly involved in the fracas, some simply trying to get away, others to fight back. Reinforcements in full SWAT gear were arriving, herding them like sheep. The ring mikes picked up the howls and shrieks of fear, rage and pain, the rattle of stones on shields, the dull crump of tear gas grenades exploding. The noises rang in Reiko's head like one collective, primal scream of terror and anger, and she put her fingers to her ears, looking pleadingly at the _kunoichi_. A little reluctantly, Benikage turned down the sound on the surround speakers.

Half-sobbing, Reiko cried, "It's horrible … horrible." To the ninja, she said urgently, "Quick, see what's happening to Makoto and Aigle, are they alright?"

Benikage switched back to the high camera. The ring was mostly clear of rioters, and the reason for this became apparent. Miss Spencer was firmly ejecting any intruders, using methods that would probably not have found favour with her school board. The teacher's deployment of painful arm locks to apprehend miscreants showed a sound grasp of technique and a cool-headed determination to restore order. Reiko noted with relief that Aigle and her trainer appeared safe, but she could see no sign of Makoto.

Benikage flicked between multiple camera shots of the arena, which now resembled a battlefield, strewn with the bleeding wounded and veiled in white clouds of drifting riot gas. The harrowing scenes burned themselves on Reiko's sight, and she found herself dreading each new picture.

The ninja eventually found what she was looking for. A camera panned, and then focused on a nearby mound of sand. Atop it were two figures, one tall, one short. The taller was Anesthesia, and next to her Makoto crouched low, making herself seem even more diminutive. The nurse's hat was perched at a somewhat rakish angle, but she gave the impression she was otherwise unharmed and unruffled. She had a hand on Makoto's shoulder, as if to protect or comfort her, yet the gesture struck Reiko as having something sinister about it. The Judo Babe herself looked to have sustained no additional injuries, but her eyes seemed to stare and stare and perceive nothing. Around them the melee continued, within which they stood as though in a charmed circle, the eye at the centre of a storm of chaos. The camera zoomed in on Anesthesia's face. The nurse looked about her with a kind of fierce glee, and though nothing could be heard above the tumult, the movement of her mouth showed she was laughing all the time, louder and louder.

Reiko said, "That's it, I've seen enough. We've got to get down to that arena. Makoto and Aigle need our help."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible."

Reiko and Benikage turned to look behind them. The director of the shoot was standing in the doorway. The woman's iron-grey hair combined with a drawn expression to make her look suddenly careworn and older than her years.

"I've just been informed that all travel on and off the island has been halted for a minimum of twenty four hours due to the emergency. By order of the Florida State and the Rumble Roses committee."

* * *

*Looks like I'm going to break my resolution to reduce the A/N.

This chapter is not in any way meant to imply wrestling fans have a tendency to riot. I'm sure you're all mostly peaceful types. It's purely for story purposes.

Aigle's move is still officially known as _Mongolian BBQ_. It's just me (not Makoto or Konami) who thinks _Mongolian Fire _sounds better.

Apologies for making classical references like I'm some kind of Victorian author. For those unfamiliar, Proteus was a mythical being able to change his shape, and would only return to his original form (and help you) if you held on to him long enough.

As my most regular reviewer has raised some questions about some aspects of the story, especially with regard to the characters' credibility in the previous two chapters, I thought I would show I pay attention by explaining the rationale.

Firstly he wondered why Reiko persisted in going out with Aisha, in spite of Dixie's warnings and apparent disapproval. The simple answer is that in some relationships partners allow each other a certain amount of freedom, and Reiko, having asked her opinion, took Dixie at her word when she said, "You're your own woman, darlin'".

Secondly it was suggested Benikage seemed to have developed a very rapid "crush" on Reiko. In fact the ninja is shown quite early in the story to have a particular fascination with Reiko (for unspecified reasons) and to imagine that they have some kind of "connection". Also both women have recently fought against one another, and that in itself has brought them into intimate contact.

Naturally I'm as ever fully appreciative of the efforts of all my reviewers, as they hopefully keep me on my toes. Thank you again!

Lastly, but by no means least, I have to acknowledge the help Steveothepirate gave me with this chapter. I found the solution to a very tricky wrestling sequence only at the last moment, but without his advice it would never have been completed to my satisfaction. Another big thank you to him.*


	12. Masquerade

Chapter Twelve Masquerade

"It's a little peculiar, don't you think?" Reiko said, thoughtfully brushing the blonde strands of her hair into a parting on the opposite side to the usual one. "A small thing like changing the colour of your hair makes you feel almost like a different person."

Benikage gave the non-committal grunt that Reiko was becoming accustomed to. She had just emerged from the shower, and the locks of her hair hung wetly, their rich red colour showing up boldly, even shockingly, partly concealing, partly revealing her naked form.

Her face becoming a trifle warm, Reiko tried to look without obviously doing so. She was surprised to see that, in spite of her athletically trim build, the ninja's body was all soft curves, a gathering of flesh around the breasts and buttocks giving her an intense womanliness it was hard not to admire. Benikage seemed to have shed some of her inhibitions, at least where Reiko was concerned, even if a faint flush indicated she had some awareness of her companion's interest. To distract her from the awkwardness of the moment, Reiko continued her musing, examining her reflection in the hotel apartment's large mirror with a mixture of wonderment and critical observation.

"I love the colour! I think I'll keep it like this for a while. On the other hand, I'm not sure whether it goes with my eyes. Perhaps I ought to get blue contacts to match."

Benikage shrugged, beginning to vigorously towel herself dry. She looked more relaxed than Reiko had ever seen her. The younger woman reflected that this was in itself remarkable, considering the momentous, stressful and decidedly odd occurrences of the last twenty-four hours. These events, she decided, were worth running through her mind a second time; there were undercurrents of meaning that needed further exploration.

The restrictions on movement imposed by the Rumble Roses committee, with the apparent approval of the State government, were certainly a little perplexing. In themselves they seemed a rather extreme reaction to a serious but isolated incident of public disorder. The media blackout that followed suggested the authorities were primarily concerned to suppress information than halt the movement of troublemakers, even though such actions appeared to be closing the proverbial stable door after its occupant had bolted. Reiko was still able to find out from some of the tournament staff that Aigle had been taken to a mainland hospital to treat her injuries. While these sources could say nothing about Makoto's whereabouts, and calls to her mobile were going straight to voice mail, Reiko was convinced she would remain at her best friend's side.

Despite the art director's words, movement around the island was difficult to prevent in practice, but Reiko had soon become aware that the real trick would be in leaving it altogether. All the regular means of transport to the Florida peninsula had been affected by the blockade. Security around the ferries and heliports had been tightened to the extent that only those with a high level of clearance could depart. To Reiko's surprise, dismay and frustration, contestants weren't automatically included in this category. She had begged and pleaded with the director, even going to the extent of shedding tears, but the woman had been adamant. She could not authorize her transfer to the mainland, and had been specifically warned not to make any concession to the participants' celebrity status. Reiko wondered whether Aisha would have been an exception to this, as on the occasion of missing the shoot.

Before Reiko could embarrass herself any further, Benikage had taken hold of her sleeve, and pulled her firmly aside. The ninja had at least the appearance of concern in her eyes.

In a quiet voice, she murmured, "You wish to visit the hospital?"

Reiko nodded. "Makoto might be there, and I'm worried about her. And, of course, Aigle …"

"In that case, I will find a way for us to go. I need a little time to prepare first."

Lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, Reiko asked, "You can really do that? What – can you get us a boat or helicopter or something?"

The ninja gave a slight smile. "It will require nothing so unsubtle. Our problem is that you are a famous star and may be recognised. That could lead to further difficulties. Another solution is needed. Wait for me in the dressing room. I will be away for less than an hour, I promise."

She left abruptly, leaving Reiko to ponder. What could her companion be doing? If Reiko's appearance was the difficulty then … some kind of disguise? It would fit in with the _kunoichi_'s assumed profession. But did Reiko truly accept that her new friend had stepped out of Japan's legendary past? Perhaps if she believed herself to be a real ninja then she was one, in a sense … on the other hand, this argument did not usually apply to those who had convinced themselves they were Napoleon or Elvis.

It was slightly over half an hour before Benikage returned, carrying two rolled bundles. Reiko shook one of them out. A dark blue shirt and trousers were revealed, with a flat, peaked hat, tie and black shoes. Police uniforms.

Her mouth open in astonishment, Reiko asked, "Where on earth did you get these? I didn't figure this place had many fancy dress shops. And they look real."

Benikage looked a little evasive. She muttered, "I took them while their owners … were elsewhere."

"You _stole _them?" Reiko put her hand to her mouth. "But this is serious. Apart from anything, impersonating a police officer is …"

Benikage interrupted. "You wish to reach the mainland? Then you must break the law one way or the other. Would you prefer to steal a boat? Isn't this way better?"

"I suppose so, but …"

"Or have you lost your courage?"

The faint tone of mockery was enough to rouse Reiko's spirit and decide her. It was, after all, in a good cause, wasn't it?

To further improve their disguise, Benikage had selected some hair dyes from amongst the cosmetics in the dressing room, and used them to colour her own black tresses scarlet and Reiko's brown ones platinum blonde. When mirrored sunglasses were added to this ensemble, the counterfeit was so complete that Reiko thought even the staff at the shoot might not recognise them. The clothes were not a perfect fit, and Reiko's felt a little tight around the bust. Nevertheless they were convincing and comfortable enough, except for the footwear. Benikage had already been wearing soft, black boots but Reiko's trainers were unsuitable, and she was forced to squeeze into polished shoes a size too small, pinching her toes rather painfully.

Only an hour later, they were standing not far from a bobbing ferry notable for its small number of passengers. The journey from the beachfront villa had been made with the help of some cycles used on the shoot, which Benikage had insisted on 'borrowing'. Pedalling along the leafy, sun-baked lanes had been so pleasant that Reiko's fears were temporarily assuaged, but now they returned in full force. A young police officer was waiting for them on the gangplank, his fleshy neck pink with heat above the tight collar of a uniform closely resembling their own. As they approached him, Reiko gave a smile she hoped was friendly rather than nervous. Then she wondered whether a serious and dignified mien might have been more appropriate.

The policeman removed his own mirror shades, placed them in his shirt pocket and looked them up and down with something resembling a leer.

"I haven't seen you two ladies round these parts before. Were you transferred from a different division?"

Her tongue frozen in her mouth in apprehension, Reiko could only nod silently.

The young officer returned the gesture, seemed about to let them through unchallenged. Then he added, "Sorry, but I need to see your I.D. Its just the standard procedure, I'm sure you understand."

Reiko's scalp rose in horror and her heart leapt. She had not anticipated this! They would be exposed as impostors and … before she had time to panic or begin to perspire in fear, Benikage stepped confidently forward, casually touching the policeman's arm.

"It's alright, Officer Logan. You just need to see my accreditation."

Without Reiko being able to see it clearly, she took out a small blue book resembling a passport, and handed it closed to the slightly taken aback patrolman. He opened the document, and studied it with apparent care, leafing slowly through the pages like someone who doesn't read easily. On the final page he paused, and gave Benikage a sharp look. Closing the book with a snap, he handed it back smartly.

"Everything is in order. I'll let them know not to bother you at the other end. Have yourselves a nice day." He watched them as they boarded the craft.

Once the ferry was underway, Reiko whispered to Benikage. "How did we get away with that? I thought we were in deep doo-doo."

The ninja made a suave gesture. "It was quite simple. When Officer Logan opened my passport, he found five one hundred dollar bills inside. American policemen are easily corruptible."

Reiko had accepted this explanation at the time, but thinking back she was sure something was wrong. Logan did not have the look of someone facing a moral dilemma, nor had he shown any particular surprise. Perhaps he was a good actor, and accustomed to receiving and palming bribes, as Benikage had scornfully suggested. Somehow though Reiko _knew _this wasn't the reason he had let them through. Even supposing the unlikely scenario that Benikage had been carrying the money in the first place, the police officer had spoken to her in tones of respect suggesting he was convinced that the person before him had the authority she claimed, and was moreover superior to him in rank.

And if all that was true, how could any of it be possible? Unless … Reiko looked at the ninja again. She was dressing herself in the spare clothes she had smuggled through in an attaché case. A slightly built woman, beautiful like a graceful gazelle and seemingly as shy and delicate. Yet Reiko already knew that appearances were deceptive. She could only speculate what further abilities her companion might reveal.

The real irony was, Reiko mused, that all their efforts so far had produced few tangible results. The visit to the hospital had proved somewhat disappointing. Reiko had at least been able to assure herself that Aigle was receiving excellent treatment for her injuries; they had entered a private room to find her with her leg held high in traction. However when asked about Makoto, she would say little of use and nothing complimentary. "Makoto like ugly goat, best keep away from Aigle now. Aigle not care where Makoto go." She could not or perhaps would not tell them about Miss Spencer's location. "Strange teacher lady come here once, then leave. Aigle cannot say more." This exchange left Reiko more frustrated and worried than before. She had been counting on finding Makoto, or at least Miss Spencer, who might have been able to shed some light on the situation. Now she was seriously concerned to know what had happened to the Judo Babe after her disastrous match.

In the end, all Reiko could do was to use her celebrity status as discreetly as possible. She persuaded a junior nurse on the wing to let her know immediately if anyone came to visit Aigle. Wheedling medical personnel into breaking their patient's confidentiality seemed a small offence compared to the day's previous activities.

Having done as much as she felt she could in the circumstances, and with the evening drawing on, Reiko decided to check into a hotel in the resort. She did not relish the idea of running the gauntlet of security back to the island, and she wanted to remain close to the hospital in any case. A suitable modestly priced and blandly anonymous chain hotel was located not far from the mall she had previously visited. Seeing the help she had given her, and with a strong sense of need for companionship, Reiko invited Benikage to share a room with her. The ninja seemed reluctant.

"I am accustomed to living on my own. It would be strange for me."

Reiko felt her heart pulse in sympathy, not for the first time pondering her companion's reticence when it came to socialising.

She said, "Today both of us have tried new things, have been successful in ways we would not normally believe we could. Let's continue to be bold and innovative. It would be my pleasure to spend time in your company, and perhaps it would be a comfort for us to stay together a while longer."

Benikage had been looking down uncertainly, but Reiko's words seemed to stir something in her.

Nodding she replied, "As you wish, so shall it be. Perhaps you are right. I have been too often alone in the dark."

These mysterious words remained with Reiko as she lay down in the dimness of the hotel room, hearing her companion's soft breathing from the bed opposite. Still she had fallen into the merciful arms of gentle, dreamless sleep.

* * *

The beep of the voice mail was followed by a crackle accompanied by speakerphone hollowness and a sense of distance.

"Howdy Reiko." The tone sounded again, and a mellow artificially constructed voice announced, "Second message, at twelve o five am."

"How y'all doing? Hell …" There was a significant pause. Eventually Dixie's voice continued. "Jeez, I dunno what to say to ya. I'm makin' this up as I go along." Another pause. "Listen, I cain't tell why ya took off without lettin' on. Where ya are now … well seems like ya don't want me ta know … so maybe I doan wanna find out neither. Just hope ya'll ok wherever. So …"

"Third message at twelve o seven am."

"I know things ain't been right between us. Most likely for a while now, but I guess they just got worse. And I didn't wanna admit it at first. There was that thing with Aisha. I figured you were jealous … maybe ya wanted ta get back at me, give me a taste of ma own bad medicine. Cain't blame ya for that. Hope ya didn't get burned because of it though, or least not burned too bad.

See though, I reckon there was a helluva lot more going on. For instance, me telling ya how Aisha always wanted to be top dog. That were true enough, but, like they say, it takes two. No, ole Dixie couldn't let anyone else take first place neither. Not even if she was Kamikaze Rose's daughter.

Sure you gotta earn your success, but I didn't wanna give it up, not really. I know'd ya hadda give the title a shot one day, and I guess I didn't wanna acknowledge ya might have a real chance of bestin' me. So I tried to keep ya in the junior slot. And when that happens in a partnership, it spills over. No surprise if it's led to bad blood. Maybe that's why ya wanted to get away, to spread your wings on your own. Well good on ya!"

A few seconds of silence. "Guess that time's a comin' when I'm gonna havta retire. I might be good for a few years yet, but age and injuries take the edge off your game in the end. I doan wanna go, I'm mortal afraid of what'll happen ta me afterwards. But I'd rather have someone worthy of the title take me down at ma peak, someone like yourself. And I hate to think a hangin' around like a bad smell, being wheeled out like some kind of has-been royalty to take part in fixed up matches. No, I'd rather go with ma dignity intact, thank ya very much."

A noise on the recording that might have been a sigh. "I bin thinkin' a lot about momma. How she was. When you did wrong, she'd always let ya know it. Righteous anger, I suppose ya could call it. Until ya repented y'sins, she was like an avengin' fury." Dixie's voice seemed to falter. "But thing is, Reiko, ya knew without a shadda a doubt she never stopped lovin' ya. Even while she was chewin' ya ear off. She was ... she was a rock ta me. And ya know, she always will be.

That's how I figured, that thing in the nightmare, in the vision or whatever. That weren't momma. She would never've been like that, tryin' ta run me down, make me feel small, unwanted. That was … that was some kinda demon, that's sprang up from wherever demons come from. Maybe from inside of alla us."

Dixie's words were becoming punctuated by heavy breathing, so that they seemed to rasp from out of the microphone. "And it ain't gone yet. I know its still there, so close I kin feel it. Sometimes I think its just behind me, but when I look over my shoulder, there's nothin' there. When I lay me down to sleep, it's there beside me. And sometimes … sometimes in the dark, I hear it laugh."

There was another long silence. "So what I'm sayin' is, come home, whenever you're ready to. I won't blame ya for anythin'. We'll try n' start all over again, do it right this time. And …"

A tone signal was succeeded by the synthetic voice saying, "You have no more messages. To repeat all your messages, press one. To delete all your messages, press eight."

Benikage took the mobile from her ear. For a moment she looked down at Reiko, sleeping as soundly as a child. Her thumb hovered over the keys, then came down on one. She raised the phone again and listened.

Calmly the voice announced: "All your messages have been deleted."


	13. On the Beach

Chapter Thirteen On the Beach

The rose pink light of dawn made the sleeping woman's face seem to flush as though in shame or modesty. The luxurious waves of hair tumbled in the disorder of slumber flamed like foxes fur, a winding stream almost the colour of arterial blood. Reiko watched her. In the hush of the room, each breath felt like a significant moment. She was like a puzzle without a solution, a lock without a key. To know what to think, what to feel … how could she unravel the tangle of emotions wrapped around this one person?

The long minutes passed, one after another. The thought that in the study of a face, in the curl of a lip, the curve of a cheek, some truth would be spoken, some veil would lift, some enlightenment descend, came to seem like a child's fancy. Reiko sighed, rose and headed towards the bathroom.

Her mobile lay on the side table. She went to pick it up, examined it.

No messages.

She hesitated, her finger poised on speed dial.

_No, not yet._

She exited the bathroom wearing wireless headphones linked to the room's digital radio. She had tuned to a local station playing bland early morning pop, a confection to distract the brain from the day's commitments, or to wash away troubling thoughts. As a song came on she disliked, she flicked through the channels.

And stopped at some familiar introductory bars, a simple harmony with an oriental flavour, a blend of violins and some brass instruments that Reiko couldn't put a name to. Instantly she was taken back to her childhood, watching a film on television with her father and Fujiko. She had been old enough to marvel at the space ships grappling with one another, gasp at the panoramic sweep of the fight at Kobe docks, laugh at James Bond's unconvincing transformation into a Japanese fisherman, thrill at the ninja descending by ropes into Blofeld's base in the extinct volcano. The words sung by Nancy Sinatra were clear and haunting.

_You only live twice, or so it seems,_

_One life for yourself, and one for your dreams,_

_You drift through the years and life seems tame,_

_Till one dream appears and love is its name._

But not old enough to be drawn into the deeper feelings the song now led her into.

_And love is a stranger who'll beckon you on,_

_Don't think of the danger, or the stranger is gone._

_This dream is for you, so pay the price,_

_Make one dream come true, you only live twice._

A tear ran down Reiko's cheek.

The DJ cut in with, "It's a beautiful song and a beautiful morning, with clear skies over the bay, the temperature already in the seventies and …"

Reiko flicked stations. She jumped, as a hand touched her shoulder.

Benikage said, "I'm sorry to have startled you."

Reiko reflected on the irony that it had required no supernormal ninja powers to surprise her, standing on a thick pile carpet wearing earphones. She said, "It's ok, I thought you were still sleeping."

Benikage make an apologetic gesture. "I slept longer than I intended. Perhaps the … unusual circumstances. I must leave now."

"Oh!" Reiko was taken aback. "I thought you were going to help me find Makoto."

"I would like to … but I have other business to transact. And if you have no plan other than to await a phone call …"

Reiko said, "I understand … I suppose it doesn't seem much of a plan. But at least allow me to compensate you for your trouble so far. Thanks to me you have no clean clothes … or things."

The ninja waved a dismissive hand. "Truly, it is nothing."

"Oh, c'mon!" Reiko pouted. "The mall's just round the corner and I'm itching to use my credit card. We could buy ourselves whole new outfits. We badly need retail therapy!"

"Retail therapy?"

"Yeah – and the mall is our clinic!"

Benikage looked down. "I have … never been to one."

Reiko raised her eyebrows. "You're kidding! Boy, have you missed out! You are going to so love this!"

* * *

_It isn't the mall that has … beguiled me._

_The mall is like a big empty palace, filled with glittering dreams. Nothing there is real. It provides things that people think that they want. I do not need anything it offers. Except clothes – which I could obtain elsewhere. To wear fine clothing is nice, I suppose. But not necessary. I must not let myself be corrupted._

_I have never … been with anyone like this. Just walking from place to place, as the whim takes us. Trying on clothes, earrings, bracelets. Talking … about nothing in particular. Laughing. I've never laughed so much since I was a child. Sometimes … touching._

_It's a feeling that I've never experienced. What it is … I suspect. I have read about such things. I thought they were not for me. That I would always remain in the shadows._

_What can I do? Have I already been compromised? Events are proceeding around me, and I am taking no action in response. I have allowed myself to be seduced. By another kind of dream._

_I must … free myself. Awake. My way of life is at the point of balance. If I cannot do those things which are at the core of my being, what am I? _

_And yet what have I ever been? Little more than a ghost, a shadow._

"What do you think of the new me?"

Benikage started from her reverie, looking up at a laughing Reiko, standing outside the walk-in opticians. Laughing with blonde hair and blue eyes. _Ice blue. But the honesty at the centre of them remains._

"Oh … they … they are beautiful." Benikage flushed. Had she said too much? Reiko put a hand on her arm affectionately.

"That's very sweet of you to say. They still feel a little strange. Do you think they look like Anesthesia's at all?"

"No, not in the least … I mean …"

"Good … I didn't want them to … even though hers are beautiful too, there's something … not right about them. Well, let's go. You still need a leather jacket to replace the one you left behind. Perhaps something in a similar style. I think green would suit you. I'd like to get one myself too, but black. And maybe some bathing costumes. We could both wear them underneath our jackets, like when you had just your bra on. It would look so cool." Reiko giggled. "And feel it too. You know, what would be funny would be to wear nothing there at all."

Benikage gaped in shock.

Reiko nudged her firmly in the ribs. "_Nanchatte_! I wouldn't really!" Tugging on the ninja's arm, "_Iku ze_! I remember there's this great designer store just off the main square."

* * *

They paused from the shopping to eat lunch at a _sushi_ bar. The excitement of the day had given Reiko a good appetite, and she devoured the food with enthusiasm. From time to time she glanced across at her companion. Benikage ate with delicacy, and an economy of movement; indeed she performed most of her actions in this style. It seemed to Reiko that even dressed in her new designer leathers, the ninja seemed somehow separate from the other mall denizens, without in any way standing out. Almost as if she were a lonely phantom, continuing to live amongst humanity, yet invisible to all but a favoured few. She pondered again how little she knew about this woman, with her strange remoteness, and she was overcome by a fascinated desire to penetrate the mystery, to explore the depths of her soul.

Putting aside a bowl of _miso _soup, she said, "Would you mind if I asked you a question that's been on my mind for a while?"

The ninja seemed to wince, but she said simply, "Ask. If I am able to answer you, I will."

"Why did you enter the Rumble Roses tournament?"

Benikage steepled her hands, flexing the fingers, "Is it not obvious?" Her voice was quietly controlled, but Reiko was not deceived.

"Forgive me, but no it isn't. The wrestlers I've met in the competition all have one thing in common. They want to win. Some put honour, or style or personal vendettas first, but they all want to wear that belt. There's only one who seems to be different. You. I get the feeling that to you it's no more than a game. Win or lose, it doesn't matter." She tried to meet her companion's eyes, but Benikage's own were fixed on some far distance only she could see. "If I'm wrong, I apologise. If I'm right, can you tell me why?"

The _kunoichi_ lowered her eyes from the contemplation of infinities, resting her chin on one hand. A little sorrowfully, she said, "So you too think that I'm a fake, as your partner suggested?"

"Did she get to you? Dixie might appear a regular kind of girl but she likes winding her opponents up as much as any of us do. She may not've meant anything much by it; that's all I can say as someone who knows her as well as anyone. Fake is the wrong word. Something motivates you, perhaps even stronger than the rest of us. I'm sure its something quite different, and I'd certainly like to know what."

"Is that what would satisfy you?" Benikage turned to look at Reiko at last. "Then I will try to explain." After a pause, she continued. "In my life I have tried to follow this pattern. To _be_, as a fish in water, a bird on the wing. The arrow flies and seeks the target, yet knows not why or wherefore. So would I be, yet by striving I fail. The arrow needs nothing, desires nothing. With me, it is otherwise, and I cannot free myself from desire. So perhaps my dream is an impossibility." She bowed her head.

Reiko said, "But that doesn't …" her voice faltered.

"Make sense? Perhaps it makes no sense."

"No …" But the young woman felt that Benikage's words were like a cloud. She had not told Reiko the important things. If she was the arrow, then where was the target? And who held the bow?

_Junction Rainy Blue_ blared out of Reiko's phone, and she immediately put it to her ear.

The young nurse's voice was uncertain but excited.

"Am I speaking to Miss Hinomoto?"

Reiko switched to speakerphone for Benikage's benefit, then said, "It's ok, you can just call me Reiko."

The nurse giggled nervously. "Oh yes, _Reiko! _Sorry, this is so thrilling for me!"

Patiently Reiko asked, "Has anything happened?"

"Well, yes, Miss … _Reiko_, it has. I kept watch over Miss Aigle like you told me, and she has had some visitors."

Looking triumphantly at the _kunoichi_, Reiko said, "Can you describe them please?"

In a confidential tone, the nurse began, "The first one was … a bit bolshie, to be honest. Japanese are usually such polite people, like you, Miss Hinomoto … I mean Reiko … but she wasn't. She looked about fifteen or sixteen, as far as I could tell, but then, Japanese women often look young for their age. Quite small, dark haired and … kinda tarted up, wearing some fancy kimono. When I said that there was no visiting at lunchtime, she got quite sarky." The nurse's voice trembled angrily. "In fact she told me that I was a fat, ugly cow, and to get out of her way. Of course I refused to be swayed by such abuse, but I was worried she might become violent. Fortunately the Sister arrived just in time. She managed to get her to calm down. Then she told me it was a misunderstanding, and she would go in with her. They're still there right now."

Benikage said urgently to Reiko, "Ask her to describe the Sister."

Reiko said, "The nurse who accompanied her, what did she look like?"

The woman lowered her voice to a whisper. "I didn't much like her either. She acted a bit creepy, like she was … trying to pull me, or something. I mean, I'm not prejudiced or anything, but …"

Reiko said, "Please hurry, this is important."

"She was much older, probably late twenties, early thirties. Tall, Latino, but with very bright blue eyes, that were sort of piercing." Grudgingly the nurse added, "I suppose you'd call her quite attractive, stunning even. For her age, anyway."

Benikage said, "Anesthesia!"

Switching off the speaker, Reiko said aside, "Sounds like. And the first visitor I wouldn't believe to be Makoto, except for the description. But she's been behaving very oddly lately."

Benikage said, "Get her to stall them."

Reiko said into the phone. "Please go in and try to delay them if you can. We're coming right now, and we can be there in ten minutes."

* * *

"How the hell did we miss them?!" Reiko almost snarled, slamming her fist against the wall. "There seems to be only one way out of this wing, they should've passed us." She shook her hand painfully, and suppressed a curse.

"That is unlikely." The ninja was leaning against the wall, the picture of relaxed composure. "At the least there would be fire exits. For those with observational skill, there are many ways to enter and leave a place."

"Thank you for that! What I need right now is a lecture in the _Tao _of entrances and exits!" Reiko snapped.

The _kunoichi _ seemed unfazed by Reiko's sarcasm. She said with a trace of sympathy, "Anger did not help Makoto. It will not help you now."

Her continued maintenance of calm reason broke the back of Reiko's rage. But the frustration remained.

"I'm sorry. I'm just so worried about Makoto. Whatever treatment that nurse is giving her isn't making her any better. Anger management be damned!"

"Anger management?" The ninja was clearly lost.

"Never mind. It looks like there's nothing we can do for the moment."

They had arrived at Aigle's room, only to be told by the nurse that her visitors had just left. Swiftly backtracking to the main hospital entrance had proved fruitless.

Benikage and a dejected Reiko had returned to see Aigle. The nomad also appeared in uncharacteristically low spirits. Being confined and helpless presumably did not sit well with her vagrant need for open spaces and freedom. She was still terse on the subject of Makoto, but the hostility towards her seemed to have gone.

"Makoto … Makoto's heart weeps." She would say little else, and her anger returned when Anesthesia was mentioned.

"Creepy lady touch Aigle again, creepy lady _die_!" Pleas to expand on these statements met only with lethargy. "Aigle tired, sick when far from steppe. Leave Aigle alone to rest."

After giving the nurse strict instructions to consult her superiors before allowing Aigle any out of hours visitors, Reiko had left despondently. She now gave Benikage a vexed look.

"Errrgh! I've had enough! Everything we do seems to come to nothing! I don't understand what's going on, and nobody will tell me anything. I just want to forget about it all for a while and … lie down on a beach, or something."

The ninja shook her head. "To give up when difficulties arise is … unprofessional."

"Gimme a break! I'm not some kind of secret agent, just an ordinary girl. Its more like I need a rain check."

"I do not understand."

Reiko switched to Japanese. "I mean I need a break so that I can return to the problem later. I'm not quitting."

The change to their native language seemed to pacify the ninja. She said, "I see. Well, the beach isn't far."

"Ah, what's the point, it'll be crammed with tourists right now." Reiko slumped disconsolately.

Benikage watched her with concern. Then she said, hesitantly, "I know a place we could go. A deserted bay on the coast. Difficult to get to unless you know how."

Reiko turned and met the _kunoichi's _eyes. She blushed.

"How far is it?"

"About fifteen kilometres to the north."

"A fair way." Reiko pondered. Then she said, "We could hire a bike, I mean a motorcycle. My phone has internet access, I'll look for the nearest hire company." Her mouth stretching into a smile, she added, "I've always fancied riding a_ Harley Davidson_ chopper."

* * *

As the powerful bike swept around a corner and onto the almost empty coast road, Reiko opened the throttles to boost its acceleration, effortlessly reaching cruising speed. She felt Benikage's grip around her waist tighten fractionally, leaning forward into a snugger position, the pleasant scent of new leather and designer perfume growing stronger. Glancing briefly backwards, she noted the _kunoichi_'s expression remained calm, eyes shaded by sunglasses, red hair whipping dramatically in the breeze created by the bike's passage. She responded to Reiko's broad grin with a slight smile. Turning forward again, Reiko allowed herself to enjoy the varied sensations: the thrum of the engine under her, the sparkling of the sea in the afternoon sun, the warm breeze caressing her face and – she could not deny it – the gentle pressure of a warm, female body. At some time in the short period of their acquaintance, a feeling of intimacy had arisen so naturally, as if by stealth, that she felt no sense of wrongness … or guilt.

Reiko was stirred from her reverie by the ninja tapping her shoulder and pointing. She pressed her lips to the younger woman's ear.

"It's down there, at the bottom of those cliffs."

Reiko slowed the bike, eventually bringing it to a halt upon a grassy verge. Peering over the precipice, she could see a small, sandy cove, shielded on all sides by steep, rocky walls. Raising her voice above the sound of the wind, the calling of the gulls and the distant wash of the tide over rocks, she asked:

"How are we to get down?"

"It's not as difficult as it looks. There's a path that's fairly safe, although it's hard to spot at first. Perhaps this used to be someone's private beach."

Reiko wondered what her agile companion might consider "fairly safe", but she soon found her description was reasonably accurate. Once found, the path carved into the rock face was not overly dangerous to negotiate, allowing enough width for a single person to pass. At one point Reiko felt giddy looking at the drop beneath, and Benikage reached out to take her hand and steady her. Afterwards it seemed natural to continue holding hands until they reached the bottom.

The crying of seabirds forming soaring white curves against the frowning cliffs, the rasp of wavelets on honey-brown sand, and the bounding of her own heart after the excitement of the descent gave Reiko a sense of wildness, of freedom, a feeling that in such a locale anything might happen.

She said, "It's so beautiful here, I'm glad we came."

Benikage said, very softly, "When we're long gone, and others visit this place in our stead, will they feel the same emotions we have, so that in them we live again?"

Reiko looked uncertainly at her – trying to decide whether this was a hopeful or a melancholy thought. To dispel any sense of gloom, she said, "Well if our thoughts are going to be remembered, at least they should be happy ones. Let's try out these swimsuits, and do some bathing."

She removed her leather jacket, revealing the flimsy bikini top she wore beneath it. Benikage imitated her to uncover her own more substantial but softly clinging garment. They both wriggled out of their jeans. Reiko had on only a thong beneath. Benikage's bikini bottoms were more modest, but still displayed the silky elegance of her smooth legs.

Reiko took the _kunoichi_'s hand, and giggling, coaxed her into entering the shallows. In a short time they were laughing and splashing each other, and from paddling, it became difficult to resist the temptation to fling themselves into the warm water.

The swim over, they slouched awkwardly up the beach, suits wet and adhering to their body curves, to finally sit down on the hot sand. Although mid afternoon, the sun was still hot enough to start drying their soaking garments.

Squinting against the brightness, Reiko said, "You're skin is so pale, you ought to put on some sunscreen to stop it burning."

Benikage shook her head. "_Muyo. _The sun isn't so strong at this time of day."

"You can't be too careful!" Reiko wagged a finger. "Too much exposure can age your skin. Come on," she urged. "Lie down, and I'll rub some cream on you."

The ninja hesitated, pushing up her sunglasses so that her dark, liquid eyes met the light blue of Reiko's contacts. Her look was pleading, with the fragile quality of one who senses her hopes may be realised, but fears they may not. Reiko responded with a little nod and a smile. Benikage nervously ran her tongue over her lips. She stretched herself out on her stomach, looking back over her shoulder at Reiko. The younger woman knelt beside her, then carefully moved across so that she was straddling her body. Delicately she unfastened the strap of the _kunoichi's _bikini top, leaving the graceful curve of her spine unbroken. She poured the cream onto her hands, rubbing them together slightly to spread it more evenly. Then she began to work with her fingers to gently massage the substance over Benikage's back and shoulders.

At her touch, the ninja gave a sigh that was almost a moan, a shudder running through her body, as though with the release of a long held tension. Reiko continued to apply the cream with both hands, at the same time firmly kneading out the knots of constriction in the _kunoichi's_ shoulders, eliciting deeper sighs of pleasure and gratitude, reaching lower to stroke just above the buttocks, and around the exposed thighs. Benikage looked back again, tears in her eyes. Reiko leant further forward and lower as she continued to massage, pressing her breasts hard against the ninja's back, the nipples rubbing through the thin material.

She felt her own body responding to the exquisite level of stimulation, and reached behind to unclasp her bikini top.

Gently she said, "You can turn over now."

* * *

Reiko gasped, as she felt Benikage shudder against her, small ecstatic cries forced from her throat.

_My turn now. Yes, that's right. Explore me. Take your time. Ah, just there. That's perfect. Keep doing that. Oh, too much! Finish me, finish me!_

Reiko clutched Benikage tightly, while hot waves of pleasure flowed through her body. With the urgency of passion, she pulled the ninja's lips tight to hers, kissing the mouth that had given her so much delight. The meeting of their tongues was like a coda to the harmonious joining of their bodies. They continued to hold one another, fingers clasped, faces close, as the afterglow of sensation lingered, and died away. Reiko found herself in a clear, luminous place, her mind free to contemplate the strands of her existence, as they unravelled for her to examine.

_What have I done?_

Reiko broke away from the embrace, getting to her feet, and walking a few steps away, causing the _kunoichi _to look up at her in surprise and hurt. In front of her was a deep pool, left by the retreating tide. As Reiko advanced, so did her reflection in the water. The image of someone she no longer knew.

_And love is a stranger who'll beckon you on,_

_Don't think of the danger …_

Reiko fell on her knees by the pool. There was nothing left, no refuge. Where could she go now to escape the darkness within?

Behind her, she heard the quiet voice of the ninja.

"What is wrong?"

Reiko buried her head in her hands. "I'm so confused, this isn't like me at all. It's … been one thing after another, carrying me along without any choice … and I don't know if I can handle it anymore. I'm sorry ... I didn't mean to hurt you, and everything between us seemed harmless, but now it's gone completely out of control. As though someone else is doing this, someone pulling our strings." She bent her head, trying to hide herself in shame.

A soft touch on her shoulder. Gently Benikage leant forward to unclasp Reiko's hands from around her face, looking directly into her eyes. Reiko could still see the pain and desperation of rejection mirrored in the _kunoichi_'s dark pupils. Yet something else had emerged to overwrite the sorrow. The ninja was regarding her almost as a doctor would a sick child, as though Reiko's words had ignited in her a professionalism that overrode even those extremes of anguish.

The deep wells of the eyes probed, probed …

"Who is that pulls the strings … who?"

Reiko's face screwed up like a little girl's about to cry. With a long-drawn out sob, she gasped, "No one does! Myself! I'm the only one to blame for all of this! I'm so ashamed!"

Benikage's eyes narrowed, and she looked as though she would ask further questions, but Reiko pushed her away. She said, "Please! No more! I'll take you wherever you want, but then I must … I must go home."

* * *

Traffic whizzed past on the nearby freeway. Reiko sat atop her hired bike, gunning the engine, trying to pull the broken threads of her thoughts together. The instinct to fly back into Dixie's arms, to tell all, to beg her forgiveness was so strong, it wrenched at her soul. Yet at the same time she dreaded that the result would be a terrible rejection. She could not bear that, on top of everything else.

The ninja had already taken her leave, asking Reiko to drop her on the outskirts of the resort, slipping away with only a muttered farewell into the blaring horns and flashing lights of the early evening traffic. Reiko had watched her go with a strange mix of emotions, relief combined with guilt and sorrow.

Her mobile phone bleeped. Urgently, wondering if it would be a message from Dixie, she pressed 'unlock' to read the text. It was from a previously uncalled number.

'_The Civil War Veterans Cemetery, 9 pm. I need your help. Miss Spencer_.'

Reiko stared at the black letters on the screen. _Of all the unlikely places to meet and of all the unlikely things to ask, _she thought. She had a feeling in her bones that something wasn't right. She had never trusted the teacher, and Makoto's strange behaviour had increased her suspicions.

Nevertheless Reiko felt intuitively that Miss Spencer in some way held the key to unlocking the mystery not only of the changes in Makoto, but of herself and Dixie too. Perhaps this tryst was the only way to make the teacher reveal what she knew. Then maybe everything would become clear, and a solution to what seemed insoluble present itself.

The natural precaution was to take someone with her. Dixie would have been the obvious choice, but the gulf that had come between them could not be denied. That seemed to leave only Benikage or Aisha. The former Reiko felt embarrassed to ask, considering how they had just parted, even supposing she could find her again. Aisha was probably still angry with her, and was in any case about the last person Reiko wanted to see.

_It looks like if I'm going, I'll have to go alone._

* * *

*Some Japanese slang expressions which hopefully are accurate:

_Nanchatte _means "I'm joking/kidding!"

_Iku ze _means "Let's go!"

_Muyo _means "Unnecessary/there's no need."


	14. American Gothic

Chapter Fourteen American Gothic

Mist formed a halo around the gibbous moon, rising from the dark mass of the cypress trees. Reiko let her motorcycle run to a halt in front of two tall, wrought iron gates. The arched metal sign above them was just legible in the faint moonlight, '_Veteran's Memorial Park.'_

With a little difficulty, she had used a combination of Internet maps and directions by locals to find the cemetery, nestling against the margin of the Florida Everglades. Now she was wondering how she would gain access. A fifteen-foot high iron fence, topped with spikes, could be seen stretching left and right from the entrance, until it disappeared into the low fog, drifting in from the swamplands. The gates themselves were of a similar height and solidity.

On closer inspection, Reiko could see they were in fact slightly ajar. She walked forward, and gave one of them a small push. It swung open with a metallic creaking sound. As she passed through, Reiko noticed a heavy padlock lying on the floor. It was broken, as if smashed by some great force of violence.

Reiko shivered, wrapping her scarf more tightly around her neck, hunching herself within her leather biker jacket. Ahead of her a gravel path led straight into the heart of the burial grounds to a grey, stone building barely visible through the haze. On both sides of the pathway were row after row of gravestones. The staining and growth of moss testified to their great age, and most were of simple design.

With no better plan, Reiko set out towards the central mausoleum. Beneath her feet, the crunching of gravel appeared unnaturally loud. An increasingly wary Reiko would have preferred to muffle the sound of her approach, but that would have meant walking amongst the graves, and this she instinctively shrank from doing.

The building was roughly ovoid, its partially crumbling walls inscribed with battle scenes. A stone door faced Reiko, but was sealed shut, so she began to walk slowly around the outside. The figures of soldiers with bayoneted rifles seemed to stare out at her with sightless stone eyes. She found herself beginning to fear what might suddenly come into view around the curve of the wall, but hemmed in by the gravestones, she was discouraged from making a wider circuit.

Reiko had circled the building to about the three-quarter point clockwise, before suddenly halting with a start. On the opposite side of the mausoleum, the path continued; and where a cypress stretched its withered branches across the walkway, a small yellow light was visible. As Reiko continued to walk closer and closer, she became sure she could make out the outline of someone sitting with his or her back to the tree. A storm lantern was throwing light to one side, but Reiko could see little except that the person was clothed in some dark material.

Reiko approached cautiously, deciding at last to leave the path. She was hoping to skirt around the tree so as to be able to see the face of the unknown person. But having to watch her footing amongst the humps and tussocks around the pale gravestones led her to temporarily lose sight of her objective. When she looked again, the light seemed to have gone out, and she could see no one. At the same time, the moon went behind a cloud, plunging her into absolute darkness.

Cold sweat ran down Reiko's forehead, as terror suddenly gripped her. Groping forward towards the cypress, she called, nervously, "Miss Spencer?"

There was no reply, but now someone stepped out from behind the trunk, holding high the lantern. It was Makoto Aihara.

Reiko's first reaction was extreme relief at the sight of a familiar face, then puzzlement.

"Makoto? What are you doing here? Did Miss Spencer ask you to come?" Peering closer, Reiko said, "And why are you wearing those clothes? Aren't you cold?

Makoto was clad in the black kimono, emblazoned with red and gold dragons, which Reiko had seen her buying at the mall. Her legs were bare up to the thighs, and underneath her outer garment only filmy, pink underwear could be glimpsed. She was heavily made-up, with dark eye shadow and mascara. Her lipstick was scarlet, as was the bow in her hair.

Makoto made no reply to Reiko's questions, but smiled with red lips. Reiko felt a chill go through her. It was the cunning, gleeful smile of a malicious child who has succeeded in some mischief. Makoto turned and walked away, and Reiko felt she had no choice but to follow.

A dozen paces from the tree, Makoto halted and looked back. Her grin broadened, showing white teeth. The smell of freshly turned soil reached Reiko's nostrils. Makoto was standing next to a large hole in the ground, presumably an open grave. Reiko peered apprehensively over the edge.

The grave was empty.

Increasingly disturbed, Reiko turned to the grinning Makoto. "Why are you showing me this? Where is Miss Spencer?"

Makoto started to giggle hysterically. The inappropriateness of this further unnerved Reiko. Restraining a strong urge to slap her friend, she snapped, "Stop that and answer me!"

"Aha, aha!" Makoto tittered. "Poor innocent Reiko!" Assuming a mock solemn expression, she crooned, "I need your hel-elp."

"What?" Reiko felt she was going mad. "Y-you sent the message?"

Still giggling, Makoto said, "I've been a naughty girl, haven't I?"

"Why – why have you done this?"

Childishly, Makoto started twirling her bow with her finger. "Why, oh why oh why oh why." She broke into another fit of laughter.

"Makoto!"

Makoto stopped laughing. Instead she started to walk deliberately around the grave. At the far end she paused, and Reiko noticed for the first time that someone had planted a crude wooden cross there, with something written on it in dark red letters.

Facing Reiko, Makoto said gloatingly, "I invited you here for a very special occasion. Can't you see that I've dressed for it?" She laughed again.

"Wh-what occasion?"

"Look, and you'll see." Makoto held the lantern up so that it fully illuminated the writing on the cross.

'Reiko Hinomoto, RIP'. The letters appeared to be written in blood.

Reiko's stomach turned to ice, and she began to back away from the laughing Makoto. The Judo babe held up her hands, and to Reiko's horror she could see they were bleeding and covered in soil.

Makoto said, "I did all this for you, Reiko-chan." She advanced in step with Reiko's retreat.

"No – o." Reiko fought with the trembling which was overcoming her. In confusion, she stumbled backwards, trying to avoid tripping over tombstones. She suddenly found herself pressed up against the trunk of the cypress tree.

Makoto came forward, halting a hand's breadth from Reiko, who squirmed against the bark, in an attempt to stay as far away from her as possible. Every nerve screamed at her to run, but carved deeply into her mind was the instruction, _Face forwards, face your opponent always._

Still displaying her hands covered in filth, Makoto said, "I made sure your grave was nice and deep and comfy. You'll be spending a long time in it. I'm going to drink your blood, Reiko."

Reiko felt instinctively that her only salvation would be in talking rather than fighting. Struggling to avoid her lip trembling, she managed to stammer, "Makoto, what's happened to you?"

"Happened?" Makoto seemed to pause for thought. "Nothing much happened. I got sick of everything and everyone, that's all. Especially of you."

"But why?" Reiko tried to overcome the horror filling her mind. "And why me? I'm your friend, what have I ever done to hurt you?"

"_What have I ever done to hurt you?"_ Makoto mimicked. "Quit whining for your worthless life. Otherwise I'll put you in that hole _alive_. In fact ..." Makoto licked the blood from her finger thoughtfully, "... I might do that anyway. It would be so much more amusing."

Desperately Reiko searched for a way to get through to Makoto. She asked, "Was it because of what happened with Aigle?"

"Oh, Aigle!" Makoto said scornfully. "I'm finished with that peasant. She can go back to her goats. She is so immature, reacting like that, when all I did was …" Showing uncertainty for the first time, she snapped, "Quit stalling!"

Reiko seized on the point of weakness, "Tell me what happened! What did you do?"

"None of your business!" Makoto shrieked. "You've always treated me like a child, never realised I might have wanted to escape from all that boring cutie pie crap. That I might have had _desires_. Well now that I'm a woman, I can see how much you patronised me. And you're going to pay for it."

Sensing she might be losing the argument, Reiko said hastily, "But you can't kill me because of that. You're a good person."

"No, I'm not!" Makoto had returned to her gloating voice. "I've had enough of your goody-goody nonsense. Being evil and depraved is fun. I plan to have lots of fun from now on." She twisted her neck, causing it to click in an unnatural fashion. "Enough chit-chat, time for you to die."

Reiko had been rapidly reviewing her options. Flight was not impossible, though the thought of being chased through a graveyard by a hideously transformed Makoto hell bent on murder was terrifying enough. But she doubted if she could outrun her pursuer sufficiently to mount her bike, start it and pull away before being caught.

Otherwise fighting would be inevitable, unless she could somehow talk Makoto round or whatever madness the Judo Babe was suffering from ended. She needed more time.

Changing tack, Reiko said, tauntingly, "What makes you think you can take me down? You're inexperienced as a wrestler and judo sucks the most out of all the martial arts."

Makoto bared her teeth. She said, "Don't underestimate me. I'm much stronger now, in every way. Look." She rolled up her sleeves, and Reiko saw to her astonishment that Makoto's arms bulged with a huge growth of muscle which she was sure hadn't been present several days ago.

Makoto suddenly struck out with her fists. Reiko flinched, but instead of hitting her, the blows smashed into the trunk. The impact could be felt, as the wood splintered. Makoto pulled on a branch, and Reiko could swear she felt the cypress move beneath the earth.

She said, "So you can almost uproot trees. So what?"

"So you're going to die!"

In extremis, Reiko fell back on the one thing she knew above all else.

Taking up a defensive posture, she growled. "Bring it on then! But ask yourself if this is the samurai way your _grandfather_ taught you."

"No one is to move!"

Neither of the two women complied exactly with this instruction, as they both turned in the direction of the speaker.

It was Miss Spencer. She had surprised them for the second time, but the circumstances could hardly have been more different. She stood next to the open grave, wearing a long, dark coloured raincoat. In her left hand was an electric torch. In her right hand was a gun.

It was only a small "lady's gun" that might have been carried in a handbag for personal protection. It was nevertheless pointing unwaveringly in their direction. Miss Spencer's precisely lip-sticked mouth was a determined line.

"No one is to move," she repeated. "Or I will shoot."

Makoto and Reiko stood like near-statues, Makoto grimacing, as if straining against a leash. Reiko spoke first.

"Miss Spencer. I was expecting to see you here. Why are you carrying a gun?"

With a slight smirk, Miss Spencer replied, "Since I last read it, the US constitution grants citizens the right to bear arms."

"But only as part of a well-regulated people's militia." Reiko automatically repeated what her father, an American and an advocate of gun control, had taught her. "And you aren't even a citizen."

The teacher's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Your knowledge of American constitutional history does you credit, but I have not come to bandy words. I am here for information about Miss Welsh. You know something. Tell me or suffer the consequences."

Makoto finally spoke, through gritted teeth. "I would advise you to leave, Miss Spencer, or _you_ will suffer the consequences."

Miss Spencer seemed not to be intimidated. She said, "Makoto, your trick of using my mobile phone to send messages was extremely naughty. I see you are much changed. But unless you have also become bullet-proof, I would advise you not to give me any further trouble."

Reiko said surprised, "So you didn't know about Makoto coming here?"

Miss Spencer replied, coolly, "I knew nothing whatsoever about her coming here until I discovered the message. She omitted to delete it. However, since I _am _here, tell me what I want to know. Now."

Makoto gave a hiss of anger. "Miss Spencer, I will drink your blood as well as Reiko's."

Miss Spencer's mouth formed a moue of distaste. "I don't think so."

Reiko said desperately, "Miss Spencer, Makoto has gone mad, as you can see. If I tell you what I know, will you help me to restrain her?"

Miss Spencer said, "I'll consider it. Your information first, please."

Makoto snarled, but Miss Spencer cocked the pistol and shook her head.

Reiko said, "My sister Fujiko was investigating the death of my mother in the Rumble Roses tournament. She was supposed to join the tour. But she seems to have disappeared, just like your Candy Cane has."

Miss Spencer sounded acutely disappointed. She asked plaintively, "This is all that you know?"

Reiko said, "I swear it. Why would I lie to you now? Makoto knows no more than I do."

The gun wavered in Miss Spencer's hand. Faintly she gasped, "Have I done all this for so little?"

Seeing the teacher was distracted, Makoto gave a shrill cry, and charged, catching Miss Spencer around the legs and knocking her backwards. Makoto made a grab for the pistol, but Miss Spencer countered by kicking up and pushing her back, dropping weapon and torch in the process. Reiko immediately seized Makoto round the neck from behind. With a shout of "_Ippon seio!"_ the Judo Babe executed a perfect shoulder throw to deposit Reiko on the ground. Instantly Makoto charged Miss Spencer again. The teacher had barely regained her feet, but the gun was in her hand.

The violent report of it firing echoed around the graveyard.

Makoto gave a terrible cry, and staggered back clutching her left shoulder, from which blood was spreading.

"The pain!" she screamed. "Its too much!" She appeared about to fall, and was held up and supported by a shocked Reiko. "Reiko?" she murmured fuzzily. "Reiko, I …" Her head slumped forwards.

Miss Spencer stood frozen, apparently appalled by what she had done. The gun had fallen from her fingers.

In great fear, Reiko lowered Makoto gently to the ground. She remembered something about keeping wounds higher than the heart, and turned the girl slightly on her side so the torn arm was upwards.

"Makoto! Makoto? Oh my god! She's bleeding!"

"Let me see." The need to deal with an emergency seemed to have roused Miss Spencer from her horrified trance. She knelt, and gently examined Makoto's shoulder.

"We must stop the blood flow quickly. Give me your scarf." Reiko rapidly unwound it, and Miss Spencer immediately pressed it hard against the wound area. Blood began to seep through the white material.

Reiko said, "I've got to call for help."

Miss Spencer hesitated, then nodded.

Reiko produced her mobile, dialled 911, and was immediately engaged in describing the situation and receiving advice from the emergency centre. The operator estimated that help would arrive in under ten minutes. She asked if Reiko was in any danger. Reiko replied that she thought not but wasn't sure.

Miss Spencer said, "This is remarkable. Come and see."

Reiko knelt, and looked. She could see that the blood had spread into a large circle on the scarf, but no further.

"Has the bleeding stopped?"

"Indeed. But with the kind of trauma associated with a gunshot wound, I would not have expected it to staunch as quickly as this. I am also a qualified first aider, you see. I wonder, could it be an effect of …"

She fell silent.

Reiko said, "An effect of what?" Miss Spencer did not reply, and Reiko was temporarily occupied with relaying news of Makoto's condition to the telephonist. The woman said she would stay on the line and to tell her if anything changed.

Placing the phone on the ground, Reiko moved closer to inspect Makoto. The young woman's face was paler than usual, but she was breathing regularly. Reiko placed her head close to the Judo Babe's chest, and could feel her heart beating strongly.

Miss Spencer said, "I think she's coming round."

Makoto was beginning to mutter and stir. Her eyes opened, though they looked somewhat glazed.

Reiko said, "Makoto! Can you hear me?"

"Reiko. Reiko-chan? What's happened to me?" Makoto asked muzzily. Reiko was so overjoyed that Makoto had spoken in something like her normal voice that she was at a loss for an answer.

Makoto continued. "I must have fallen asleep. I had a horrible dream, something about becoming a monster." She seemed to become more aware of her surroundings. "What am I doing here? What is this place?"

"Makoto-chan, stay calm. You've been hurt, but … you're going to be all right. Help is on the way." Reiko tried to speak with a confidence she didn't feel.

"Hurt? My shoulder, it feels strange." Makoto eyes began to flick wildly. "Oh my, its been bleeding!" She began to pant in distress. "The blood! I remember! In the dream. I wanted blood. It's all true! It's all true!"

"Makoto, Makoto, calm down! Its over now." Reiko spoke reassuringly, but Makoto appeared to have fainted again. "Makoto!" There was no response. Makoto went back to breathing slowly and deeply. Reiko said softly, "Hang in there, Makoto."

Miss Spencer said, "She survived the initial shock, and the bleeding is under control. The bullet seems to have gone straight through without fragmenting or bouncing around internally. I think she'll make it."

Reiko said, "Then you have saved her. Miss Spencer, I don't think you wanted this to happen, did you? And I believe at heart you are a good person."

Miss Spencer replied, "You're right, I didn't anticipate things would go this far. As to my moral character …" she sighed deeply "I'm not at all sure any more."

Reiko said, "I think you know something important about what happened to Makoto and why. If you tell me about it, I may be able to help you in return."

Miss Spencer said calmly, "The police will come along with the paramedics. They will most likely arrest both of us. I will be disgraced and my career as a teacher will be over. I doubt if you can help."

Reiko said, "Perhaps if we can come up with a plausible story …"

"You suggest lying to them?"

"They won't believe the truth anyway. So yes, why not?" The teacher shrugged. Reiko said urgently, "Come on, Miss Spencer, you must have got your pupils to write plenty of stories. Can't you think of some other explanation for what happened?"

Miss Spencer said, "Crime novella are hardly a staple of our curriculum. In addition we have to account for our presence in a graveyard in the middle of the night next to a hole in the ground. And there isn't much time."

Reiko said, "Suppose we said we were kidnapped by a deranged fan with a gun. He made Makoto dig the hole to bury us. She managed to get the gun off him but was shot in the process. He ran away and we were too occupied with helping her to catch him."

"And the absence of any footprints to prove this."

Without missing a beat, Reiko said, "He wore oversocks and kept to the paths." She pointed to the gravel track nearby.

"Very ingenious!" Miss Spencer paused to reflect for a moment. Then she said, "Its imaginative but it won't do. I came here by taxi and you came by motorcycle. The police will discover this. They will also check our mobile phone records with the message that brought you here."

"Well then …" Reiko stopped at the sound of whirling rotors. Looking back across the gravestones to the line of the Everglades, two bright searchlights could be seen sweeping the treetops. Above them the black outline of a large helicopter was visible against the stars, heading straight in their direction.

Miss Spencer said, "Its too late."

Reiko said furiously. "No it isn't. Think, Miss Spencer, think!"

"I'm … I'm not sure that I can."

Reiko frowned in concentration. She said, "Did you come all the way here by taxi?"

"No, only to the nearby town."

"Then you could've been kidnapped, and your mobile used to lure us here like Makoto did."

Miss Spencer considered. She said, "Its implausible, but it just about fits the facts. Miss Hinomoto, you are a remarkably clear thinking and level headed young woman. Perhaps you would like to attend my creative writing classes sometime?"

Reiko said, "Never mind that now. Will you make the promise that I asked?"

The helicopter was hovering low above the nearby gravestones. A woman in the green jumpsuit of a paramedic leapt to the ground, followed by a police officer in a tactical vest. The latter held a revolver.

Miss Spencer said, "I promise I will tell you everything I know as soon as possible. You have my word as a teacher and a Canadian."

Reiko said, "I accept your word then Miss Spencer. I can see you take your profession very seriously."

* * *

*When deciding on the chapter title I was thinking of the film/TV series. However its also the title of a famous American painting of the 30s by Grant Wood.

_Ippon seio _is given as the Black Belt Demon's killer move in the original game. I assume its a short form of _Ippon seio nage, _known in English as a one armed shoulder throw.

Don't completely take my word for it, but the actions taken to help a gunshot wound victim are roughly in line with what I understand as real world procedures (including rapidly calling the emergency service). Makoto was lucky however, that the bullet didn't fragment or bounce inside her body: there is no "non-lethal spot" to shoot someone, despite what you see in the movies.*


	15. A Soul in Torment

Chapter Fifteen A Soul In Torment

"It's good for them to be together like this."

Reiko and Miss Spencer stood side by side in the private hospital room. On one of the beds in front of them, Makoto Aihara lay, eyes tight shut. The steady electronic rhythm of monitoring equipment provided an accompaniment to her regular breathing. From time to time, she would mutter and stir, twisting her head this way and that. On another bed pushed close alongside the first, Aigle slept, her face composed and tranquil. Her arm was stretched out across the gap between the two beds, so that her fingers were just touching Makoto's.

"Did you have any difficulty persuading them to allow it?"

Reiko shook her head, the surgeon's words flitting through her head: "_Remarkably low blood loss", "extraordinary rapid repair of tissue damage" "almost as if the catalepsy were self-induced to promote healing." _And then the inevitable, _"My daughter is such a big fan, could you sign this for me?"_

Miss Spencer said_, _"I hope that when they wake everything will be fine again. When Aigle has had time to think, she may come to understand why Makoto acted as she did."

Reiko nodded, "Their friendship was so strong, even something like that shouldn't end it. And you never know …"

The teacher smiled tenderly, "Friendship and love are sometimes very close."

Reiko sighed, thinking of Dixie. Then she said, "When Makoto wakes we must speak to her before the police do; tell her the story we've made up." Miss Spencer nodded. The police had been naturally suspicious, but seemed prepared to accept the invented explanation until further investigations had been made. Most importantly they had not arrested either of the two women; instead issuing a stern warning not to try leaving the State of Florida.

Reiko continued, "I've kept my part of the bargain, Miss Spencer. Will you now keep yours?"

The Canadian looked down at her feet, resting her chin on one hand. Eventually her blue eyes lifted to meet Reiko's in a look that seemed tired. With a twitch of her lips which could have been a grimace or a smile, she said, "You ask a harder thing than you know."

Reiko said solemnly, "That may be so. Yet I still ask it."

Miss Spencer appeared to reflect. Then she said, "Come, let us sit down, and I will tell you everything. But I warn you, it won't be easy listening."

Reiko shivered with apprehension; nevertheless she felt she had no choice but to hear the teacher's story. They went to sit on comfortable chairs at the far end of the room. In the quiet dimness of the hospital, light from the monitoring equipment strobed across Miss Spencer's face, imparting it with a reddish tinge. She began to speak, the words forced from her precisely rouged lips as though she were under a compulsion.

"Much of what I'm about to tell you may sound unbelievable. So it almost appears to me, as though what passed were another life lived in a dream, a nightmare. I, who often thought of myself as the most rational of women, am no longer certain if any part of my story is the truth and reality of the world we seem to inhabit, or merely a fantasy arising from the depths of my unworthy soul.

Of this only I'm certain. I left my school in Canada and flew south to this state, hoping, as I have told you, to find my straying pupil, Rebecca Welsh, otherwise known as Candy Cane. I believed I was performing a duty, a solemn responsibility to save someone in my care from I knew not what perils." Miss Spencer shot a tortured glance at an increasingly uneasy Reiko. "Now I doubt everything, no longer knowing whether my motives were pure, or the vilest and most base imaginable."

Miss Spencer sighed, seemed to brace herself. "Be that as it may, my only clue was that Rebecca had said she wanted to enter the Rumble Roses tournament. I arranged to check into a hotel near where most of the matches were being held. Unfortunately I had not realised it was an establishment of dubious repute, located in a seedy part of town. When I first arrived, I immediately noticed the women who frequented the area had the kind of tawdry appearance which told me they held their honour cheaply. I was later to witness many entering the hostelry on the arm of men whose boorish lasciviousness could not be disguised. In spite of my distaste, I had little choice in terms of the availability and affordability of accommodation, so I took up residence, hoping at least that I would not be mistaken for one of those unfortunate souls."

Reiko put in, "That would be most unlikely in my opinion."

"Thank you, although the ability of the mind to produce corrupt fantasies often seems unlimited. I began to familiarize myself with the locale, and to make enquiries of people connected to the tournament. Afterwards I would return to my isolated apartment and the soul sapping gaudiness of its surroundings. Often I would lie staring at the mirror on the ceiling, wondering if my efforts would ever bear fruit.

These activities must have attracted someone's attention. One day, the proprietress, a wizened old crone with the look of one who revels in others' misery and vice, told me I had received a parcel. Puzzled, as I believed no one could know of my location, I took the package to my room and opened it. Inside was a brand new laptop, fully charged and installed with software. Turning it on, I found that an electronic mail account had been set up for me, with one item pending."

Miss Spencer paused for breath, glancing at Reiko. The Japanese woman, feeling a flutter of dread, asked, "So? Who was it from? What did it say?"

"There was nothing to indicate who the sender was; the mail was titled 'Candy Cane' and was unsigned. The text warned that Rebecca was in danger, that there were those in the tournament who wished her harm, and might be holding her against her will. It did not explain how, when or where this information might have been obtained, and ended abruptly."

Miss Spencer gave Reiko a significant look. "Almost immediately after being read, the email deleted itself. My efforts to trace the sender or to find the provenance of the laptop met with failure.

Over the coming days, I would receive more such missives. They followed a similar pattern, giving increasingly dire-sounding warnings. Some contained attachments with photos of Rebecca. They were standard portraits of her in her normal clothes without any identifiable background, and she looked unharmed; but it tore at my soul to see them. All the messages would disappear as the first one had, defying all attempts to copy them or to send or elicit a reply."

Reiko asked, "Was that all? Were these the only things you received?"

Miss Spencer shook her head. "At first, only the emails. Then …" the teacher pursed her lips, "…Then the flowers started to arrive." She looked into Reiko's widening eyes. "I sense you were expecting me to say something like this. They were bouquets of a very unusual kind. Bouquets … of black roses."

Reiko released the breath she'd been holding. "Yes, I received them too."

"Thank god! I was beginning to believe they were a figment of my imagination. My old apartment was full of them – I kept them to try to reassure myself I wasn't going completely mad. It wasn't long after their appearance that the dreams began."

Reiko started. "What dreams?"

"Nightmares such as I have not experienced for many years – not since my youth. I say nightmares … yet they were more like visions … predictions of what I could perform … what I could become." The red light flickering across Miss Spencer's face showed an expression of abhorrence. "Visions of a self that I could barely acknowledge, although it seemed familiar to me. Of desires which I had always possessed, though I strove to deny it." The teacher hesitated as though reluctant to continue.

Reiko tried to overcome the underlying sense of fear that Miss Spencer's story was provoking. As sympathetically as she could manage, she said, "I know this is difficult. Would it help if I said I think I understand? That you might not be alone in your thoughts."

Miss Spencer shuddered. "I would not wish anyone to see into those depths – the sin there is my own and no one else's. Yet perhaps each of us keeps such secret iniquities hidden in our minds."

Reiko said, "Perhaps, but imaginary vices aren't real unless we allow them to become so."

"However that may be, the nature and vividness of such dreams appalled me." Miss Spencer stroked her hair, a gesture she seemed to perform when nervous.

"At the same time that I was suffering from these dreadful visions, I began to receive other mysterious deliveries of a completely different nature. They included various kinds of scientific equipment. Devices for blending and mixing compounds of elements: centrifuges, sample bottles, temperature monitors and the like. From the laptop, I received further instructions about how to assemble the equipment, as well as a shopping list of chemicals to purchase. These I was told to write down, before they vanished as before. I was assailed by doubts as to the advisability and practicality of attempting such a task, without any idea of what the result might be. But curiosity and a kind of desperation drove me on.

At last everything was ready. Late one night, my eyes smarting and my lungs aching, I made the final adjustments and set the devices to the parameters I had been told. With a quiet hum, the equipment set about its work. I was filled with a strange excitement, almost to the point of rapture. Though I still had no idea what I was creating, I was convinced that if only I could succeed, all my problems, all my moral dilemmas, all my tortured thoughts would vanish. How foolish that now seems!"

Reiko, hanging on to the teacher's every word, thought how she herself was clinging to a similar hope that this story would be the light to banish the surrounding darkness, and a chill ran through her.

Miss Spencer was still speaking. "The machines fell silent, the light died. In a retort, a smoking substance distilled. I peered at it through the thick glass. Here was the result of all my efforts! The instruments in front of me indicated it had been correctly manufactured. But what was it, what purpose was behind it?"

Reiko felt sick. She said, "I think I begin to guess …"

Miss Spencer nodded. "I said you were remarkably perceptive. I only wish I had been more so, yet I fear that my mind had strayed far from the usual climes in which it had been wont to dwell, and had descended into an abyss of lies and self-deception. The message, when it arrived, seemed to me at the time like a ray of hope bursting from a dark cloud. The substance I had created was a Truth Serum. With it, I would be able to discover the fate of the girl that I now often thought of as my beloved Candy Cane. All I needed to do was to secretly administer it to certain participants in the Rumble Roses tournament. Your name and that of Makoto Aihara were first on the list."

Reiko breathed, "Oh my god!"

"Of course I immediately grasped the unethical nature of what was being suggested. Even supposing the claims about it were correct, and I had made no error in its production, administering the substance to anyone without their knowledge would be … criminally wrong." Miss Spencer's voice nearly broke. "But you must understand … I was becoming desperate, and my grip on reality was growing weaker all the time. In the end, I conceived a plan that even without the benefit of hindsight appeared insanely dangerous. I decided to take a dose of the drug myself."

Reiko gasped, "But surely …"

"Only then …" Miss Spencer shook her finger dramatically to emphasize her words. "Only then could I be certain that it had no other harmful effects. Or so I told myself. But it was a mere sop to my already battered conscience."

Reiko said, "I think I understand, even if I can't defend what you were planning to do. So did you take the drug?"

Miss Spencer nodded.

"What happened? Did it work as it was supposed to?"

The teacher gave a bitter laugh. "Oh yes, it worked. It worked all too well. But not as I expected. I saw the truth all right, the truth about my own divided nature. The other self I spoke of, the one I had become aware of only in foul dreams, stirred from its long sleep. Into my mind began to seep the vilest of notions. Vices which previously would have appalled me by their very mention, I now began to embrace with a delicious abandon, and even an ecstatic feeling of release, as though all the restraints of conscience, morality and decency were nothing more than dull and meaningless chains to be thrown off."

Reflected red light surrounded Miss Spencer's pupils. "Yet so corrupted had my thoughts become, that I at first welcomed this sense of freedom. My scruples at using the drug to gain information now seemed ridiculous. Indeed I was filled with a cold rage at all those who would harm my Candy Cane or prevent me from finding her, and I was determined to punish those responsible."

Reiko interposed, "At least you were still concerned for her. Surely that was a sign you retained some sense of rightness?"

Miss Spencer sighed. "I wish I could be sure of that. My mind was inflamed by visions of vengeance. I imagined myself chastening the perpetrators as I would unruly pupils; I came to think of them as smart-mouthed young women who were in need of strict discipline. These fantasies became more and more attractive, as I played them out in my head."

An expression of agony was on the schoolmistress' face, as she turned to look away from Reiko. "Sometimes these images of retribution became confused. Rather than the imagined instigators of these supposed crimes, they began to focus on …" something like a sob came from Miss Spencer's lips "…on Candy herself. Instead of a victim, I saw her as a straying delinquent who required stern correction. But from this ultimate betrayal my soul recoiled in horror."

Reiko said, "Thank goodness!"

"Indeed. But alas, this shred of morality led me in the end to further degradation. Reasoning that I must rid myself from such ignominious thoughts before continuing with my quest, I decided that only by acting out my fantasies could I purge my psyche."

Reiko put a hand to her mouth. "But how …"

Miss Spencer flushed deeply. "I … hardly know how to tell you. It began with the purchase of certain … clothes. Of certain … items. At first I would simply pose with these in the privacy of my room. It seemed to ease the cravings for a while. But eventually I could not resist the temptation to take things further."

Reiko was torn between sparing the storyteller further embarrassment, and a fascinated desire to hear more.

Falteringly the teacher continued. "I had observed a young woman who often visited the hotel on the kind of indecorous errands of which I spoke earlier. With as much discretion as remained to me, I contrived to meet with her on the back stairs, and made clear to her the nature of my requirements. She was, as I predicted, in no way abashed. Together we agreed she would visit my room that evening dressed in the clothing I specified. In return I would pay her a large sum of money. I could tell from the greed in her eyes that it was more than she expected, and there was little doubt she would comply."

Reiko was unable to take her eyes from the teacher's, as they stared ahead of her, as though she were reliving the events again.

"At the time arranged, there was a bold knock at the door, and she entered. She was attired …" Miss Spencer hesitated a long time "in a school uniform of sorts. She wore a long dark blue coat, and a broad-brimmed felt hat confined her hair. There was something incongruously old-fashioned about her appearance, as that of a period where deference and respect for authority were commonplace. Yet I perceived an expression of lewd insolence in her blue-green eyes, which seemed almost like those of a predator.

I made her kneel down before me. At that moment, she removed the bonnet, and her hair fell free. Since we had last met, the colour had changed. It was red, the hue of flame."

Reiko's eyes widened. Miss Spencer's look was stony. Vehemently, she said, "I swear to you on all the things I hold dear, I had not told her to do this thing! I cannot even now account for it. I was filled with such anger, astonishment and disgust that I drove her in terror from the room. I slammed the door shut, tore off all of my clothes and threw them into the fire, along with everything else associated with my degenerate self." She drew a long, shuddering breath.

"But this made me only the more determined to finish my mission, lest I should once again fall into temptation. I set myself to discover where some of the competitors on my list were accommodated. As you were staying on the island, it was more difficult, but I found Makoto's lodgings were nearby on the mainland. I established a 'stake-out', as I believe you call it, and when she left for the mall, I followed her. You know what happened then."

Reiko nodded. "You drugged her, and that made her act with unusual assertiveness."

Miss Spencer said, "No, you are mistaken. Indeed I tried, but you foiled my plan by spilling the drinks, as if you somehow suspected my intentions. Makoto decided on her own to show me kindness."

Reiko said, astonished, "But … the biscuits? Weren't they drugged too?"

"The only way would have been to soak them in the substance, which would have looked exceedingly suspicious." Miss Spencer gave a wry smile. "You underestimate your friend. She is capable of behaving with great determination when she feels so moved. And she has a compassionate heart."

"So you're saying that you never drugged her?"

"I wish that were true, but I'm afraid it is not. The opportunity inevitably arose later, and I was unable to resist." Miss Spencer lowered her gaze in shame.

Reiko was surprised to find she felt mostly sympathy, and not anger, at Miss Spencer's admission. She said, "But there's one thing I don't understand. You had already tested the drug on yourself. You knew of its side-effects, and you could not even be sure it would work as you'd been told."

Miss Spencer replied, "You must consider the distorted nature of my thinking, which had its own twisted logic. When I began to reside with Makoto and Aigle, I quickly realised that they were in general honest and well brought up young women, possessed of great kindness and entirely without malice. Aigle was unschooled, but I would have been proud to have either of them as my pupils."

Reiko exclaimed, "Then why on earth …?"

Miss Spencer wiped a tear from her eye. "The darkness that had clouded my reason led me to a conclusion I now believe to be both false, and likely to bring about the horror I had feared. As I was convinced that Makoto in her normal state of mind would never stoop to cloaking so wicked a crime, I surmised that she could only have done so under the influence of a mind-altering drug such as I had created. Thus I told myself that by bringing her into this state again, I would have the opportunity to interrogate her about what I believed she was concealing." Looking pleadingly at Reiko, she cried, "Pour your condemnation on me, I beg you, for I have deserved it! I have almost been the means by which an innocent girl lost her soul, and murdered her own true friend! Mere chance was all that prevented it!"

Reiko put an arm around the distraught teacher, hugged her close. "That's enough!" Miss Spencer began to weep on her shoulder, and she added softly, "I know what you did was wrong, and perhaps you deserve some kind of punishment. But you have already suffered greatly, and are punishing yourself more severely than anyone else could devise. I cannot offer forgiveness on Makoto's behalf, but I do so on my own account."

It was quite some time before Miss Spencer could resume her story. Eventually, under Reiko's gentle urging, she began again.

"At first I noticed only minor changes in Makoto's behaviour. She appeared somewhat irritable, but her attitude towards Aigle was if anything more affectionate. I began to wonder if the drug affected others differently, and to speculate that its negative effects were due to my own unworthiness - and even mental illness - brought about by isolation and the depravity of my previous surroundings. Since the beginning of my stay, I had felt less pressure to assume my other self. I took this as a comforting sign."

Reiko asked, "Did you still receive the emails and the flowers?"

"The emails ceased, and even had they not, I would have been inclined to distrust them. The flowers, however, continued to come. Now seeing them as part of a passing nightmare, I refused to have them in my room. Aigle would not go near them. Makoto, on the other hand, seemed fascinated by them, and insisted on keeping many in her chamber. I noticed also that she was taking more and more care with her appearance, and I began to suspect that her affection for Aigle was … well …" The pedagogue paused discreetly. "Sometimes I have observed my female pupils developing a crush on another girl or …" she blushed slightly "even on myself, their teacher. I inferred Makoto had just such an infatuation for Aigle."

Reiko said, "Yes, I noticed it too. And I think Aigle had no idea."

"Precisely. I believed it to be harmless and rather sweet. Feeling more at home, I gave no further doses of the drug either to Makoto or myself. Until the night before the wrestling match. The weather was unseasonably cool and foggy, and the girls had turned on the heating for the first time. The result was the lodging became swelteringly hot, and I was forced to leave my bedroom door open. Tossing and turning, I was visited by a dream more terrifying than any I had previously encountered. I thought that a _succubus _of great beauty but voracious countenance had entered my chamber, while I lay helpless and unable to rise. The demon had straddled my body, and bent forward, so that the masses of its _red hair _fell over my breasts, upon which it placed its cruel mouth to suck at my vitality. I awoke in terror, and immediately arose to mix a double dose of the drug, which I slipped into Makoto's breakfast coffee.

Around mid-morning a great commotion broke out. Both girls were shouting and screaming and crying. I even heard sounds of violence. Struck by guilt that I must be the cause, I rushed to help. But a locked door prevented my intervention. After a while the girls emerged. They were bruised and sullen, and would tell me nothing of what had occurred between them. And they remained thus estranged and close-mouthed, which you could have witnessed for yourself, if you had occasion to watch their match. Nevertheless I speculated that Makoto had made some demonstration of her affection to Aigle, and had been rebuffed."

Reiko said, "I watched the match, and I think you're probably right. But tell me this: was your bedroom close to Makoto's, and was the door to her room also open the night of the dream?"

Miss Spencer replied, "Our rooms were just across the corridor from each other. And I'm sure Makoto's door was ajar, because I caught the scent of all the roses she kept by her bedside, a heady pungent odour that was almost too overpoweringly sweet."

Reiko gave a cry of triumph. "Miss Spencer, I've come to a conclusion! The cause of your nightmares must have been the black roses! You said it was only after you began to receive them that the dreams began, and at your new lodgings you were untroubled in your sleep until you left the door open. What's more, Dixie slept in the same room as the roses I received, and she had an awful dream too."

Miss Spencer said bemusedly, "Your theory is supported by some evidence, but can you be sure, and how can this be possible?"

Reiko quickly explained about Mae's investigation. She continued excitedly, "Someone's genetically altered the roses to have this effect!"

"But who has done this, and for what purpose?"

Reiko frowned, "I can't imagine why anyone would. As to who, it's obviously the same person who manipulated you into administering the drugs. I have my suspicions … but first I must ring Dixie to warn her." She reached for her mobile. Miss Spencer put out an arm to prevent her.

"You're not supposed to use mobiles near hospital equipment, are you?"

"Damn, you're right! I'd better use a normal phone." She turned to leave the room, then stopped. "Wait, first you should tell me how you came to be in the graveyard. That might give us another clue."

"Very well, I'll try to be brief, though it happened most peculiarly." Miss Spencer gathered her thoughts, then continued briskly.

"I was allowed to go with Aigle to the hospital. Feeling that I was to blame for the whole situation, I decided to stay and watch over her, though I remained out of sight, and when you visited I hid nearby. The next day, Aigle received more visitors. Again I was hidden just outside the room, but I was able to overhear voices.

The first was Makoto's, but she spoke in a sneering tone that was quite unlike her usual manner. She was taunting Aigle for being weak and immature. Aigle seemed more upset at the change in Makoto, than angry at the insults.

She said, "Makoto lost in darkness. Must wake up quickly."

Then another unfamiliar female voice interrupted, speaking with an English accent. A self-satisfied, mocking inflection … there was something about it that just grated.

She said, "Silly little girl! You'd do better to grow up quickly like your friend has."

Aigle's voice again, "Dirty lady! Why you touch Makoto there?"

And Makoto, sniggering, "Aigle you're so stupid! Don't you realise I'm enjoying this?"

Before Aigle could reply, the unpleasant voice asked smarmily, "Are you jealous? Would you like me to show you how pleasurable a woman's touch can be?"

The next thing I heard was Aigle screaming in Mongolian. It's not a language that I teach, but I could tell from the tone she was cursing. I was about to go in, but at that moment a young nurse arrived. After more shouting and arguing, she came out again, along with Makoto and a second older nurse. Makoto was dressed exactly as you saw her, and the nurse …"

Reiko said, "I know who it was! Anesthesia!"

"Yes, that's right. The younger nurse was trying to get them to sign some forms, but they just ignored her, and started to walk away. At that point, I decided to confront them. Neither looked very surprised.

Anesthesia said, "So its Makoto's personal tutor and guardian angel, is it? You certainly look like a teacher. What d'you want?"

I said, "I _am _a teacher, and I want Makoto to come with me. She's clearly not well and needs someone to look after her."

Anesthesia seemed amused. She said, "I _am _a nurse, and I _am _looking after her. What makes you think you can do better?"

I said, "At least I will refrain from touching her in an inappropriate way. Unlike you, it seems."

"Oh really?" Anesthesia appeared to find my words hilarious, much to my chagrin. Chuckling, she said, "Well, no doubt you're used to _handling _young ladies but I fear Makoto may be rather too much for you to manage. Smacking her bottom when she's naughty isn't going to work."

I felt myself going red with anger and embarrassment. Then Makoto intervened, saying that she was happy to go with me. She was smiling in a strange fashion, which worried me, but made me all the more determined to remove her from this woman's influence. _I do not like the cut of her jib, _I thought.

Anesthesia shrugged. "Well who am I to come between bosom friends? Go on then. But remember to play nice."

We left by the back stairs, and got a taxi. Hoping to confuse an attempt to follow us, I decided to take Makoto to my old flat. I suppose that could have been a mistake. On the way, she more or less refused to speak to me, and once we arrived, immediately announced she wanted a bath. I thought it might be better to postpone questioning her until she was more relaxed.

Makoto seemed to be in the bathroom for quite a long time and, feeling extremely hungry, I set about making a meal for both of us. As I was completing my preparations, there was a pounding on the apartment door. Alarmed, I quickly found the small pistol I keep for personal protection, and thrust it into the waistband of my skirt. Then I pulled open the door.

The person on the other side fell through, her body flung against mine. It was the young woman whose illicit services I had attempted to hire. She began to scream that I owed her money, that I had treated her without respect. I held onto her arms to calm her, urging her to keep her voice down. She continued to issue threats and imprecations. Eventually I was able to persuade her that if she quietened down, I would recompense her for her trouble. Deciding not to involve Makoto, who had still not emerged from the bathroom despite the pandemonium, I quickly dressed and took her to a nearby outlet providing cash. There I paid her a sum even larger than the one I had previously agreed.

I watched her as she sullenly thumbed through the new bank notes. Her hair was still dyed red, and her pale face and greenish eyes reminded me of Rebecca. I suddenly felt pity for the harsh breaks life had given her; she was only a little older than the pupils I teach. I was moved to begin an apology, to offer advice and even help. She only gave a cynical smile. I could almost imagine Candy Cane standing there, regarding me with folded arms, head tilted, eyes upturned and taunting.

"_You're so lame!"_

By the time I had stirred from my daydream, she was gone. Returning to the apartment, I found only damp towels, simmering food and no Makoto."

Miss Spencer's tale appeared at an end. She stared into the distance with a brooding countenance. Silence fell between them, until Reiko ventured to ask, "And the mobile message?"

Miss Spencer started slightly. "Oh. I am precise in my habits. I always leave my mobile in exactly the same position on my bedside table. Thus I knew someone had interfered with it."

Reiko nodded. Breathing and the electronic echo of pulsing life were again the only sounds.

There was a tap at the door.

"Miss Hinomoto?"

"Yes?"

"A phone call for you. The person is holding; just down the corridor."

Reiko gripped the receiver tightly. Putting it to her mouth, she asked tensely, "Who's there?"

"Reiko?" Mae's voice was concerned. "How is Makoto? I heard on the news she was shot while you were there. Are you OK?

"Yes. Kinda. Makoto's still unconscious, but the doctors say she'll pull through."

"Thank heavens! Are you sure you're alright though, you sound strange?" When Reiko didn't reply, Mae continued with a hint of exasperation, "I'm not going to ask you what you've been doing these past few days. You should be old enough to take care of yourself." A significant pause. "However I thought you'd like to keep up with current events here."

Reiko took a long breath. "Why? What's happened?"

"It's Dixie. She's gone to Aisha's mansion."

* * *

*_Succubus: _female demon who preys on sleeping persons, usually in a sexual manner. Presumably the explanation for certain kinds of dreams.

Apologies for publishing delays. Christmas and snow have caused another hiatus, though this has been a necessarily lengthy chapter.*


	16. Floor Show

Chapter Sixteen Floor Show

Reiko asked, "Gone to Aisha's mansion? What, to _stay_? Has she taken her things?"

"No, nothing like that, at least, I don't think so." Mae cleared her throat. "Well, not unless she's about to kick Aisha out of it."

"What do you mean?"

"She was in a fine temper. You know how she can be sometimes." The trainer's tone was disapproving. "But even for her, this was off the scale. She was raging how she was going to …" Mae's impression of Dixie was none too convincing "'.... arrest that dirty whore for soliciting, speeding, kidnapping and' … I forget what else."

"Arrest?"

"Well, I know this will sound odd, but she was wearing some kind of police hat and badge. I think she even had some handcuffs and a truncheon. Is it a new wrestling costume she's come up with?"

Reiko's heart missed a beat. She asked, "There's a display case with her mother's things in her room. Can you go take a look at it?"

"If you like." There were faints sounds of Mae moving through the house, opening doors. Then a pause.

"It's been smashed. And the room's a real mess, clothing thrown all over."

Reiko tried to control her breathing. As calmly as she could manage, she asked, "Did you try to stop her?"

"Not too hard … she was lucky I didn't." Reiko detected a trace of disgruntlement in Mae's voice. She knew the trainer would never admit that Dixie could best her. "Not really my business, but I thought you ought to know."

"Of course. Has the blockade ended yet?"

"All back to normal, whatever that is."

"Then I'll get after her right away."

"If you must. You take care now."

Miss Spencer regarded Reiko with concern, as she replaced the handset. She said, "You must leave, then?"

"I'm afraid so."

"You trust me to remain here? After all that I've told you?"

Reiko said, without hesitation, "Yes, I trust you."

Tears glistened in the teacher's eyes. "How can you, when I find it so hard to have any confidence in myself?"

Reiko took Miss Spencer's hand, and squeezed it. "Because I believe that you're telling the truth now, both to yourself and to me. You haven't tried to hide or excuse your past mistakes. I know that you'll take care of Makoto and Aigle, as you would protect your own cherished pupils."

* * *

Reiko's breath hung in the still fog-dank night air, her bike engine revving low, as she waited for a sign that someone in the mostly darkened mansion was aware of her presence. Scanning the main building, she noticed a flickering of lights around some of the windows, the colours varying between shades of red, blue, green and yellow. There seemed to be faint sounds of music. Was some kind of show going on?

Above the main entrance, a single CCTV camera suddenly whirred into life, training on Reiko. It followed her as she drove through the silently opening gates and parked her bike on the driveway. A white portico led to a pair of bronze double doors, more appropriate for a portal to an ancient temple or castle. These stood halfway open, and were graven with scenes from modern urban life rather than antique warriors or gods. Beyond them a wide flight of steps ran upwards and around. Setting her jaw firmly, Reiko began to mount the grand staircase, and as she did so the music grew progressively louder, rock with southern-style electric guitar.

Reaching the top at last, Reiko emerged into a white walled ballroom-sized area, lit up by overhead whirling disco lights. It had a high ceiling, and two prominent features: in the centre a raised wrestling ring and, at the far end, a small stage. Next to the latter, a machine was emitting rolling clouds of dry ice, their colour altering with each change in the lighting. A number of large, ornate windows were set in the exterior wall, the stained glass depicting the saints and demons of Aisha's childhood. Pimps and hookers were there, along with gangsters and police, and an extraordinary matriarchal figure with a halo. The interplay of light and sound was an assault on the senses.

No one was in the ring, but the stage was occupied. Aisha and Dixie stood one behind the other, the Texan's hands on the singer's hips, singing and dancing. Aisha held a karaoke mike, through which the lyrics could clearly be heard.

Aisha sang,

"_Big wheels keep on turning,_

_Carry me home to see my kin,_

_Singing songs about the Southland,_

_I miss Alabamy once again,_

_And I think it's a sin, yes."_

Then they both sang together,

"_Sweet home Alabama,_

_Where the skies are so blue,_

_Sweet home Alabama,_

_Lord I'm coming home to you."_

If the surreal sight of this improbable duet hadn't been enough to shock Reiko, then the appearance of the two singers would have done it. Dixie was wearing what could loosely be described as a police uniform, including a hat, handcuffs and a nightstick. However the way the cuffs clipped to her braces – her only upper body decoration apart from her badge and string tie - wasn't exactly force regulation. Neither were the fishnet and black leather britches they held up. Aisha meanwhile had combined heavy make up with the briefest of brief gold lame' outfits, the clinging garments giving her all the sleazy magnificence of a Las Vegas show girl. The popstar reinforced this impression by using the intervals between the song verses to swing from a steel pole in the centre of the stage.

Circling the ring to get closer to the platform, Reiko could perceive other changes. Both wrestlers had curiously bleared eyes, as if they had spent a night, or several nights on the town, and moved sluggishly, like sleepwalkers. Reiko began to guess why this might be, as she saw with horror that they appeared to have undergone the same rapid muscular growth as Makoto Aihara. Their already well-developed physiques made this look an even grosser distortion.

Still swinging from her pole, Aisha called out enthusiastically, "Reiko Hinomoto! Come on down!"

Behind her the would-be police officer pushed her cap to a more rakish angle. She said, "Shouldn't that be come on up?"

"Jesus, ain't ya picky? Whatever, get your arse up here, Hinomoto!"

A large puff of dry ice blew into Reiko's face. She decided she'd had enough of being ordered around, and said coldly, "I'd rather not. I've had a long day, and I'm tired."

Aisha reached behind the stage, pushing on some hidden mechanism. The music stopped abruptly, and the lights froze on the colour red, giving a seedy or perhaps ghastly tinge to the whole scene. Into the sudden silence, she said silkily, "Now I asked ya once nicely. I don't appreciate your refusal."

Reiko said, without any attempt at sincerity, "I'm sorry."

"You will be. We don't hold with refuseniks 'round here. Ain't that right, Sarge?" Aisha had the air of a cobra about to strike.

"We surely don't." Reiko noticed the change in Dixie's voice. It had a more seductive quality, but at the same time a cold indifference, and a far greater edge of menace. She remembered that in her first match against Dixie, the Southerner had spoken like this to intimidate her.

She asked, "Sergeant?"

Aisha said, "In case ya just gone blind, Dix' here's an officer of the law."

Reiko said sarcastically, "Oh yes, I can see." To Dixie, "That your mom's gear? Would she be proud to see you now?"

"Shut up." Dixie spoke the words without any emphasis. It was the voice of someone who would carry out any action on the instant, no matter how atrocious, without thought or regret.

Aisha said, "Ya won't step up on the stage, step into the ring then." She and the Sergeant leapt down, landing either side of Reiko. With the stage in front and the ring behind, she was effectively trapped.

She said, "Okay, then."

With mock politeness, the Sergeant lifted the ropes to allow Reiko to climb through. The two former members of Rodeo Drive swiftly followed her.

Fear seemed to have no meaning for Reiko anymore. The spirit of recklessness was on her, and she could hardly wait for the action to begin. Taking up a defensive stance, she said, "And how should I address you, Aisha? Have you come up with some dumb title as well?"

"You watch that mouth of yours." The Sergeant chewed slowly on her lip. Then she said, "Ya can call her 'Sista A'."

"Is that 'A' for 'Arsehole'?"

Reiko thought Aisha would hit her there and then, but the singer merely grinned. She said, "You're gonna so regret ya said that."

"Why? You're going to give me the beat down anyway, aren't you?"

"Ya got that one right. But it'll make me turn the screw just that li'l bit further when I hear ya scream for mercy."

Reiko said, "I may cry out, but it won't be for mercy. Why are you doing this, by the way?"

The Sergeant laughed. "Huh, huh, huh! Mostly for fun. Still I'll read ya out the charge sheet, if ya like."

"As long as you don't bore me even more than you already have."

"Nah! It'll make good reading." Pretending to reckon up a list on a pad, Dixie continued, "Item one: behaving like a pathetic, goody-two-shoes wuss."

"Yeah, and …?"

"Item two: dragging your whore's arse around town, and offering it to whoever."

Reiko said, "Isn't that a contradiction? Who says so?"

"Aisha, for one. I mean, Sista A."

"Well, she's a liar, as you ought to know."

The Sergeant's blood shot eyes squinted as though considering this. She said, "Then there's the photos."

Reiko asked, confused, "What photos? You mean the shoot?"

"Like this one." From under her hat, the Sergeant produced another picture, held it right up under the Japanese woman's nose as if she were presenting her badge, so close that Reiko could only see a blur. Instinctively she took the photo out of the Texan's hand, held it further away. The image was of Reiko and Benikage on the beach, Reiko astride the bra less _kunoichi, _massaging her shoulders. The Sergeant added, "Looks like someone's been following ya around. Showing ya the others might … embarrass your arse, as you kin imagine."

Reiko stared at the picture. Suddenly serious, she asked, "Was seeing this what pushed you over the edge?"

"I dunno what ya mean! Item three … jeez, let's drop the paperwork and get to the fun bit." The Sergeant replaced her hat, and intoned with fake solemnity, "Reiko Hinomoto, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent … and all that other stuff."

Reiko decided one more goad was required. "And Sista Arse? Is she indicting me for not joining the hookers' union?"

This time Aisha _did _hit her.

* * *

Pain thrilled through Reiko's body. The punch had come slower than expected, but with such force that she felt as if her kidney had been crushed. She had missed Sista A's approach from the side and slightly behind, distracted by the 'photo evidence' and the Sergeant's pantomime-like performance. It occurred to her in the midst of her agony that this had probably been a deliberate ploy.

She raised her gloves to block the singer's follow up, the photo fluttering to the canvas. At the same time, the Sergeant reached forward a long arm to grab hold of her. The Texan pulled her onto a high knee into the stomach, doubling the pain; then stretching forward to grip Reiko's hips, she rolled backwards to complete an overhead suplex. The throw took Reiko momentarily clear of her opponents, but the impact combined with the earlier blows she had suffered left her stunned and unable to rise quickly enough.

The two were on her like wolfhounds. Sista A stamping on her face then dropping to pin her to the canvas with a neck hold. The singer snuggled her body in tight to Reiko's to maintain the firmness of the embrace. Giggling, she said, "Does that feel nice, darlin', do ya enjoy havin' ya sista's heavenly bod' close to yours."

Meanwhile the Sergeant had got hold of Reiko's leg, bending it back cruelly. She snarled, "How d'ya like that, ya li'l harlot!" Reiko bit her lip, as her tendons were stretched to the point of snapping. With methodical ruthlessness, Clemets repeated the procedure with the other leg. "I am the _Law Rider_, and don't you forget it! C'mon, get her up on her feet."

"Just a 'sec, I heard someone make a rude remark." Releasing the hold, and kneeling on Reiko's chest, Sista A began pounding her repeatedly in the face with her fist, continuing until long after it appeared her arms should have become tired.

Reiko was allowed to rise at last, tottering slightly, until Sista A took a firm grip on one arm. "Stand up straight, now." This time, Reiko couldn't suppress a moan of pain, as the popstar twisted her wrist viciously.

"Hold her steady there." In front of her the Sergeant was leering sadistically. With a wink, she placed a fist gently against the centre of Reiko's stomach as if measuring up a punch, letting the younger woman feel her vulnerability, anticipate the agony she was about to be subjected to.

Reiko felt a sudden build up of rage, flowing out from her centre like a pulse of heat along her chakra lines. She would not play the role of passive victim any more. A snarl of fury twisted her lips. Energy was surging through her body, released by her wrath.

Time seemed to be moving at two different speeds. The Sergeant's arm drew back in slow-motion; Reiko's elbow smashed rapidly into Sista A's face, as she rotated into a shoulder throw, the singer's body flopping as though she were falling through deep water. Dixie's fist was coming forward now, but it seemed slow, so slow, giving Reiko all the time in the world to deflect it with her freed arm, then twist the opposite way to swing a powerful uppercut connecting with her opponent's chin. The Texan's head snapped backwards and she toppled. And then it was all Reiko, stamping, kicking, shoulder dropping, her opponents scrabbling desperately to escape from the ring and her rampage.

On the marble floor they lay groaning, nursing their injured limbs. Reiko was left in possession of the arena. The berserk fury had subsided. As if suddenly weary, she sat down in the middle of the ring. Nothing much seemed to matter. Dispassionately she watched the two wrestlers regain their feet. They exchanged glances. The Sergeant drew her truncheon. Sista A took hold of the mike stand from the stage, yanking the cord violently to pull it free.

"This is where it gets hardcore," she said.

* * *

Reiko waited for her opponents to approach, her expression stone like. Was it even worth responding? Survival instinct overrode the sense of lassitude however, and she sprang nimbly to her feet at the last possible moment, vaulting out of the ring just before Sista A swung the mike at her like a flail on the end of its flex. While the singer remained central in the arena to block her escape, the Sergeant jumped the ropes to pursue her around the outside. Reiko looked about her for something to use as a weapon, but nothing remotely suitable appeared to hand.

The sound of a bell interrupted the unequal confrontation, as though someone had belatedly decided to mark the renewal of hostilities in an appropriate fashion. But rather than the harsh tones of the ring announcer, the chime was followed by a melodious female voice. "_This is the first floor, please wait for the lift doors to operate_." A synthesised version of Aisha's laconic tones added, "_And make sure y'all have wiped your feet."_

A service elevator was located to one side of the ring. The sliding metal doors were pulled apart. But the lift was empty.

The reunited _Rodeo Drive _partners turned from their examination of this new phenomenon to glare significantly at one another. Their gaze returned to the doors, which remained open despite the robotic voice continuing to bleat, "_Please exit the lift promptly."_

Keeping Reiko under her surveillance, Sista A made a motion with her head, "Check it."

The Sergeant turned to comply, then looked back menacingly over her shoulder. "Why the hell don't ya check it yourself, you got legs, ain't ya?"

"Just do it, won't ya? Pretty please and sugar on top."

With a grunt, the Sergeant strode towards the open doors. Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, she peered cautiously inside. She took a step forward and looked up.

And then part of the lift seemed to detach itself, and grow long, lithe limbs, and these swung downwards, the colour of them shifting more quickly than the eye could follow, striking the Sergeant squarely under the chin, and sending her staggering backwards to fall dazed to the floor.

Reiko blinked. _Something _was standing inside the lift, but its outlines were so blurred, and each of the tiny cells making up its form so closely matched the background colours, that it appeared some kind of phantom, a transparent ghost. As it moved forwards, the blend of hues altered in a mobile display of camouflage.

Then, as though a switch had been thrown, the shape filled in to attain a sudden, well-defined solidity. The figure in front of Reiko wore a full body suit composed of shimmering silver and blue scales. The face was three quarters masked, shielded with goggles and surmounted by a helm resembling that of some ancient _samurai _warrior. Metallic guards protected the arms, and the boots were split-toed and soft.

A gloved hand reached up to remove the goggles, revealing dark brown eyes that Reiko would have recognised had she lived a thousand years before beholding them again.

She said, "So this is what you do. It's all true then."

She did not have to see the ninja's mouth to know that she smiled.

"I apologise for my late arrival. Certain elements of security around this mansion have been enhanced to an unusual degree. I spent a little longer than was strictly necessary deactivating them."

Reiko said, "Looks like you're in time to even the odds in one respect, if not in another. I'm afraid it's no longer Queensbury rules."

Whether or not the ninja was familiar with the reference, she understood Reiko's general drift.

She said, "I have taken thought for that also."

In the manner of a conjurer, she produced from somewhere on her person a wooden cane as thick as two fingers and not much larger than a conductor's baton. By some mechanism, it telescoped to form a longer weapon about the size of a short staff. She handed it to the younger woman. "Use this. I do not require it."

On the marble floor, the Sergeant was beginning to recover. The Law Rider still held her truncheon, wrapped to her fist by its leather strap. Getting to her feet to face off with Reiko, she shouted, "Looks like its change your partners time. Hoedown!"

Holding the staff in the fashion favoured by _Kendo_ martial artists, Reiko responded with, "_Ki-o-tsuke!_"

Flourishing the mike stand, Sista A had chosen Benikage for her opponent in the ring. She rasped, "If I had to pick me one cowardly sneak to tan the arse of, it'd be you."

Benikage had taken up a fighting stance, palms flattened, one arm held outstretched, the other withdrawn. With typical brevity, she replied, "Nonsense! To Action!"

With a swooping motion, Sista A began the combat by swinging the mike at Benikage's legs to entangle them, but the ninja easily avoided this attack by leaping into the air. Withdrawing the flex, the popstar attempted a series of swipes with the stand. Again Benikage avoided the blows with arrogant ease, sidestepping them almost as though taunting her opponent. When Sista A tried as a variation to use the mike as a whip by flicking it downwards, the _kunoichi _simply dodged, then caught hold of the flex, and yanked at it, pulling the singer off balance and towards her. While Sista A was still tottering, Benikage struck her with a violent backwards elbow, following with a full-blooded shoulder throw to dump her heavily to the canvas. The mike stand was wrenched from her grasp.

Sista A shook her head dizzily, and tried to get back to her feet. Benikage stood over her with the stand held like a quarterstaff.

Wincing with the effort of trying to focus, the popstar ventured, "I thought ninja were into unarmed combat, or swords … that kinda thing. Ain't it monks that use them poles?"

For answer Benikage twirled the mike stand around her head, making the air sing in an elaborate display. She ended it with the metallic rod held at an angle behind her in a dramatic pose.

Sista A sighed. "I guess I got _that _one wrong." She gave a sickly grin. "Maybe this is a good time for me to say that if I was ever a mite disrespectful … it was … intended in the best possible way … like constructive criticism ya might say. So … no offence, OK?"

Still holding the stand behind her with one hand, Benikage used the other to pull down the veil masking the lower portion of her face, allowing the singer to see her grim smile.

She said, "None taken!"

Reiko and Dixie's other self confronted one another in the gap between arena and elevator.

A little sadly, Reiko said, "So its come to this. I thought at least it would be in the ring, with the belt and honour at stake."

The Sergeant fixed her cap more firmly atop her straggling blonde locks. Sniggering, she replied, "I may be a li'l crooked now. So what? As a policewoman, I'm the good guy no matter what I do. That's why I love being a cop. Now are ya comin' quietly, or do I have to make ya?"

Reiko shook her head. "You've crossed that line we talked about way too far. Maybe I'm your only hope of getting back."

For a moment Clemets stared at her. Then her face twisted in anger.

"To me you're no better than any other miserable, petty villain."

Reiko could not make her characteristic nose swipe, because she needed both hands to wield her improvised _bokken_. But she said, "Very well. _Hajime!_"

Aware of the longer range of Reiko's weapon, the Sergeant approached warily, her nightstick held high and in front of her body. To counter the younger woman took up the _seigan _stance, the stave pointed at her opponent's opposite shoulder. Permitting the Sergeant to move within range, she began with a _Nidan No Waza _or double strike, the first blow delivered _kote _at the wrist in an attempt to disarm. Alert to this, the Sergeant deflected the cane with her truncheon. With a shout of _"Men!_" Reiko struck at the head, but Clemets had already raised her own weapon double handed to block the anticipated swing, perhaps hoping also to break the more fragile of the two cudgels. The meeting of wood on wood resulted only in a harsh crack.

Taunting the Sergeant drawled, "You and your damned honour code! You think I don't know enough Japanese to second guess ya?"

Not allowing Reiko a reply, she pushed back her _bokken_, feinted a downward strike, then slashed crossways with the baton. Unable to parry in time, Reiko folded almost double to let the blow pass within a millimetre of her navel. Taking advantage, Clemets delivered a crunching head butt, then sent Reiko staggering backwards with a kick to the stomach. She charged, truncheon raised, but the Japanese woman was ready. Sidestepping she performed a _Debana Waza_ before her opponent could attack, the _bokken _aimed _men_ at the head.

A _kenshi _would normally wear a slatted face protector. The Sergeant's police cap was perhaps stronger than it looked, and the impact failed to stun. She rolled low to Reiko's side, and rising, lunged at her leg. The hammer blow to the front of the shin was exquisitely painful, and as Reiko clutched at her knee, Clemets pulled away the other leg, to send her sprawling on her back, the cane dropping from her grasp.

Still holding the Japanese woman's leg, Clemets prepared to make a second bone breaking strike. In desperation, Reiko searched through her pain for that edge of rage. With a mighty push, she used both legs to thrust back her opponent, almost simultaneously flipping back to her feet. Before the Sergeant could deploy her baton, Reiko gripped both her wrists to hold her back, wrestling with her in a test of strength.

Her newfound anger might have been enough to match the old Dixie. The Sergeant's enhanced muscularity was too much, and she felt herself being gradually forced downwards. Before the inevitable end came, Reiko gave way with one arm, twisted and dropped her knee. The half-sacrifice sent the Law Rider crashing onto the hard, marble floor, the impact leaving her completely dazed, arms thrown wide helplessly. Immediately Reiko rose, and trod heavily on the wrist holding the nightstick, then groped for her own weapon. When Clemets still failed to release the truncheon, Reiko brought the cane down hard several times on her elbow and upper arm. With a shriek, the Sergeant finally let go. Her body went limp, her eyes downcast and defeated.

Looking down at the cowering woman, Reiko experienced an emotion half triumphant, half pitying. Never before had Dixie been so utterly at her mercy.

To her left, she could hear Sista A cursing and screaming. She turned to see that though Benikage was similarly victorious, she had allowed her adversary no respite. With a sudden, sick feeling, Reiko realised the ninja was beginning to beat her opponent in a manner designed to inflict the maximum amount of pain without knocking her unconscious, the metal stand striking at the elbows, base of the spine and other zones of excruciation favoured by torturers. The screams got worse and worse, then suddenly ceased. The agony had caused Aisha to faint, and Reiko's stomach twitched nauseously.

Benikage was breathing hard with her exertions. She met Reiko's disgusted glance.

"Was that really necessary? Or did it give you some perverted satisfaction?"

The _kunoichi's _hard gaze did not waver. She said, "You too must finish it in this fashion."

"No way! What kind of sick person do you think …"

"Pain." The ninja's voice was merciless. "Pain is the key. Pain restored Makoto Aihara to herself before weakness overcame her. Emotional pain of a different kind allowed Miss Spencer to resist the urgings of her baser nature. Pain brings about the transformation in the first place, and pain negates it. Pain is the only way to help your friend now. I will take the responsibility from you, if you do not have the courage."

Reiko shivered. She said, "How can you know any of this? You weren't there in the cemetery. You weren't there in the hospital."

"I was. From the time we parted I have followed you, sometimes so close that I have almost been at your elbow, a second shadow. Yet you knew nothing. All my life I have striven to perfect this one ability above every other – to remain unseen, unheard. But there is always a price to pay."

Reiko was struck dumb, as she considered the implications. Then she said, "In the graveyard my life was in danger; all our lives were. And you did nothing. What price did you put on remaining hidden then? What price was friendship?"

The ninja's look softened a little. She said sincerely, "I would have considered the value of your life too high. Had it been necessary, I would have intervened. When Miss Spencer appeared, my first concern was to prevent her shooting you. She did not attempt to do so, and gave sufficient aid to Makoto; consequently there was no need for me to reveal myself."

Reiko bit her lip. She said, "Makoto could still have died."

"Sometimes hard decisions have to be made. You must make one now."

Reiko looked down. The Sergeant was grinning toothily in an attempt at camaraderie that was totally unconvincing. She shrilled, "Ya wouldn't hurt 'ole Dixie, now, would ya?"

Her mouth a tight line, Reiko said, "Not Dixie perhaps, but you're not her. Dixie doesn't beg."

She picked up the discarded truncheon and brought it down heavily on the Sergeant's knee. Then she hit her again, and again. Somehow the groans, and pleas and eventually shrieks could not penetrate to the cold core that her heart had become. The hard mahogany baton made a repulsive dull thudding as it struck tender flesh. She concentrated on remorselessly increasing the agony while avoiding breaking bones, until finally it was over. The Sergeant slumped insensible.

Reiko stood looking down, her chest heaving, hardly able to believe what she had done.

She said, "I have to find out who's to blame for all this, and when I do …"

As though in response, a voice spoke behind her.

"My, my, the once invincible Cowgirl and the rather less formidable Diva beaten to a pulp! And each by her own tag partner! What a delightful irony!"

* * *

*_Sweet Home Alabama: original lyrics by Lynrd Skynrd._

_Kendo_ Terminology:

'_Ki-o-tsuke!': '_Put on your spirit!' Call given to prepare for combat.

_Bokken: _a wooden sword. _Kenshi _also use _shinai_ made from bound together bamboo canes.

'_Hajime': _'Begin!' Call to commence combat.

_Seigan: _a stance in which the _bokken_ is held facing the opponent's opposite shoulder. (Incidently another stance is called _Kasumi!)_

_Nidan No Waza: _a double strike, in this case _kote-men _(see below).

_Kote, Men: _Wrist, Head. Two of the approved points for striking in _kendo_. Also may be called out as a corresponding attack is made.

_Debana Waza: _a strike made in anticipation of an opponent's attack.

_Kenshi: _practitioner of _Kendo_, swords(wo)man.

Sorry again for the update delay. A good excuse would be that I've been trying to master _Kendo, _but that's a lifetime or more's achievement. Again I hope the work already done on subsequent chapters will speed things up.*


	17. Dr Cutter Speaks

Chapter Seventeen Dr Cutter Speaks

"Bravo!_"_

The smoothly mocking tones oozing false conviviality with the sickliness of dripping honey had become only too familiar to Reiko. She turned towards the grand staircase, unsurprised to see the figure swaggering up the steps, her tight, revealing white uniform starched, well pressed and immaculate. Affecting a debonair and suave confidence while ascending a set of stairs was a far more difficult trick than doing so while descending, but the nurse somehow managed it with ease.

"In fact _Bravissimo_! Sterling work with those cudgels! I could hardly have done better myself, though I would taken so much greater pleasure in it than either of you. But it will come, it will come. We shall have to accept icy indifference as a good substitute meanwhile."

Reiko said, "Anesthesia! I suppose I should've expected you to be here."

"Indeed, my dear, indeed. You have been _remarkably _slow on the uptake, although I cannot expect members of our profession to often combine brains with brawn. However the naughty dog running at your heels has been sniffing around for quite some time, and ought to have discovered more than the way into your knickers. Still I'm delighted to see you both. At the least it will save me much time with needlessly repetitious explanations.

The ninja gave Anesthesia a look of disdain. "Your confidence is misplaced. I am fully aware of the extent of your activities."

"Oh, would you like me to give you a biscuit as a reward, my clever little doggy? Or perhaps you'd rather listen while I describe the fiendish ingenuity behind my schemes, like the villain you suppose me to be. Because I don't believe you know quite so much as you pretend."

Benikage tossed her head. "Very well, if you find this amusing, enlighten me. Why have you been manipulating the contestants in the Rumble Roses tournament?"

"Now, now, one thing at a time! First you might try putting down those weapons so we can talk in a civilised fashion."

Reiko considered, then sent her cane clattering down the stairway. Benikage hesitated.

Anesthesia sniggered. "Come on, if I had a shooter like our dear pistol-packing school mistress, I'd have produced it by now. Or are you about to show us your stand-up routine?"

With a shrug, the ninja tossed the mike stand aside.

"That's better! I knew I could rely on your good natures, for a while longer at least." The nurse gave a trill of laughter. "Well now we're on such cosy terms, let's sit down by the stage and have a long overdue chinwag."

Drawn by curiosity, Reiko followed Anesthesia willingly enough. Benikage looked reluctant to comply, but contented herself with moving close while remaining standing.

Seating herself composedly, Anesthesia said, "I'm sure you've got some questions to ask me, so fire away!"

Benikage folded her arms impatiently. "You have already heard mine, and declined to answer it!"

"Your tongue really is hanging out, isn't it? Well, first you'd better tell me what you mean. For example, the Rumble Roses Committee, with whom I have a … certain association, not so subtly encourages competitors to display their 'womanly assets' for the general public to ogle. Is that the kind of manipulation you're asking about?"

Reiko said, "Most of us are aware of that, and accept it, even if we may not like it. Drugging contestants without their knowledge is a whole lot different. And I want to know if that's what you've been doing."

"And your evidence that any such potions have been administered is … what exactly?"

"Well …" Reiko floundered, then rallied. "Miss Spencer, of course! She told me …" her voice trailed off.

Anesthesia threw back her head and laughed. "Ah, yes, Miss Spencer! A self-confessedly loopy Canadian rather dubiously obsessed with finding a missing schoolgirl. Obviously we should believe her account of receiving unsolicited emails instructing her to brew up ingredients in her twenty first century cauldron!"

Reiko pounced. "Ah, so you _do _know about her!"

"Oh, _please_! Someone so obviously screwed up would tell her story to almost anyone, let alone a therapist like myself. You'll have to do better than that."

"Just … just … _everything! _Makoto, Dixie and Aisha attacking me!"

"As for the latter, if you … how shall I put it … were unable to resist tasting our naughty ninja's forbidden fruit, you can hardly expect your famously hot tempered partner to approve. Aisha, of course, doesn't tend to take rejection well. And I don't expect you want the police to discover how poor Makoto came to be shot by your psychotic friend."

"But … but …"

"Come now, my dear, don't get so upset! I'm merely trying to show you that should you have any ideas of going to 'the authorities' about this, you can expect them to laugh at you, bang you up in jail or commit you to a clinic such as the one I run." Anesthesia smacked her lips in a satisfied manner. "But I think I've teased you enough. So yes, just between ourselves, I confess. It was me all along."

Reiko felt bewildered by the twists and turns of the nurse's talk. She said, "It was?"

"Scout's honour, hand on heart, it was me wot done it, guvner!"

"And the genetically altered roses?"

"Yup, that was me as well! The two of them work hand in hand. The flowers have an effect on the unconscious mind, usually during sleep. The drugs have a more direct influence, bringing those thoughts up through the subconscious to begin to change the subject's personality and actions. And unlike the roses, they have at least one amusing side effect."

"And that would be what?"

Anesthesia gave a chortle. "You ought to know! You've experienced it for yourself! The two of you in fact."

Reiko and Benikage both gave an exclamation.

Reiko said, "I haven't taken any drugs!"

Vehemently the ninja concurred. "And neither have I!"

"Oh, you think so, do you? You know it's amazing how easy it is to spike someone's drink. Even that bumbling teacher managed it in the end."

Reiko felt a chill of fear. "When … how … and what was supposed to happen?"

"Oh my dear, my dear! You took your favourite drink out of my own fair hands in the bar. What do you think was in it?" Chuckling at Reiko's horrified expression, she continued, "In addition to its intended alteration of the personality, the drug loosens the inhibitions rather as alcohol does, but with an enhanced effect which directly boosts the sex drive." She laughed louder as the two women glanced uneasily at one another. "Been feeling a little horny recently, have we? Not quite ourselves, perhaps? I saw you out with Aisha, looking like you desperately needed a good time. Naturally I added a large measure to her whisky too, enough even if she didn't finish it. I hope she wasn't too … _rough_ with you." Another guffaw. "I know how she loves that sort of thing … up to a point."

Aware of the ninja's hurt look, Reiko said hastily, "N-n-nothing much happened actually. I told her I wasn't interested."

"How disappointing! Perhaps the drug was mixed with too much wine, or maybe you're lying. No matter. Another opportunity arose while you were flaunting your bits during the photo shoot. I'm sure the sun and sexy swimwear made you both feel hot and bothered. And sure enough there were some nice, long cola drinks to cool you down, compliments of the Rumble Roses organisation." She gave a leer. "It was only a matter of time before the temptation to get your hot little hands on one another became too much. I did so enjoy the video I had taken of you at it like spring rabbits. Oh, I've made you blush! Don't worry; I'm sure your lust for each other was perfectly natural. It just needed … a little encouragement."

Reiko and Benikage looked stunned. "Have I dashed your spirits a jot? Too bad! One way or another, everyone got a dose. Except that minx Aigle. Maybe it's herding those smelly goats, but the waif from the steppes seems to have a nose for out of the ordinary substances. She wouldn't go near the roses either."

Reiko said, "I tried to keep away from them too."

"True, but you may have got enough of a whiff to prime your system sufficiently."

"I haven't had any dreams like Dixie or Miss Spencer."

"Really? Well, it probably won't make any difference." Anesthesia looked Reiko up and down. "You seem to have changed quite a lot already. What lovely blue eyes! And blonde is such a daring colour!"

Reiko said, "It was … only a disguise."

"Shouldn't it be time to discard it, then? Or is it because it suits the new you so well?"

"There is no new me! Instead of prevaricating, tell us why you've done this. What was the purpose behind it?"

Anesthesia winced. "Ah … now we get to the complicated bit … and I do so hate long and involved explanations. You'd be better hearing them from my partner in crime. She loves all that intellectual stuff."

Reiko asked in surprise, "Well who is she? Is she here?"

"In a manner of speaking." Anesthesia hesitated, and Reiko sensed the first hint of discomposure in the nurse's mood, as though nerving herself to perform an unpleasant task. "She's been waiting to talk with you for a long time, and she's becoming impatient. It wouldn't do to keep her waiting."

"Are you afraid of her?"

"Me, no, of course not!" Anesthesia tried unsuccessfully to return to her former casual demeanour. "She's such a stick-in-the-mud at times, with her scheming and her bossiness. _'Do this Anesthesia, Do that Anesthesia'. _Why can't she just relax and have fun like me? Oh, no, because that might mean deviating from the oh-so-carefully-worked-out plan." Anesthesia's voice was becoming increasingly agitated. "No, we can't have that happening, can we? Interfering bitch, why won't she leave me alone!"

Reiko was bemused. The nurse's sudden anger seemed to have come out of nowhere. Hoping to use it to her advantage, she said, "Perhaps we can help you stand up to her, if you tell us more about what she's been doing."

"No, you can't help. If I don't do what she says she'll begin to stop me having fun. That wouldn't do at all. She can go, oh such a long time without it herself. Not because she doesn't enjoy it too, but to punish me. To keep me in my place."

Reiko and Benikage exchanged puzzled glances. The nurse's speech was becoming more and more fragmentary and strange.

"No, I'll have to go. She's waiting, and she won't wait any longer." With a strange gloating smile, Anesthesia said, "The Doctor will see you now."

"The doctor?"

"The Doctor. Dr Cutter. She's coming, she'll be here any minute. I must go." Anesthesia walked as though in a trance towards the stage, disappeared behind it.

Reiko made a move to follow, but the ninja tugged her back. "We should wait and see what happens. We don't want to frighten away this … Dr Cutter."

"I suppose you're right." As Reiko spoke a loud moan came from the direction of the stage, a cry of agony like someone in the throes of childbirth.

Again Benikage restrained Reiko's movement. "No! Let the play unfold!"

"Reiko!" Amidst the background of groaning, the voice was weak and pain-filled, but unmistakable. Dixie had somehow recovered her senses, and was trying to crawl forward towards them. Reiko was instantly at her side.

She said, "Dixie, is that you?" She moved her head close to the Texan's to better hear her failing voice. The noise from the stage was a rising crescendo of incoherent wailing.

"Reiko, I'm sorry!"

"I'm sorry too! I didn't want to hurt you!" The tears couldn't be stopped.

"It's OK, whatever ya did, it worked."

"I meant that I'm sorry about everything!"

"I already said I didn't blame ya. If only ya'll had come home … but hear me now."

"What is it?"

Still looking half-dazed, Dixie managed to husk. "Beware! Beware of Dr Cutter!"

"Beware?"

"Dr Cutter … don't listen to her. What she'll tell ya … it's the devil's work. The devil's the father of lies." Dixie groaned with the effort of staying conscious. Her voice sank to a whisper. "My mom used to warn me … 'and I saw the Beast rising out of the sea, and the name on its forehead was _Blasphemy_.'" Her eyes rolled up in their sockets.

Reiko tried massaging her temples. "Dixie, please! Try to stay awake."

"Beast … dragon …" Dixie's eyes closed. At the same time, complete silence fell.

Benikage asked, "What was she saying?"

"I dunno. It sounded like religious babble. I think she was delirious."

Benikage tapped her shoulder, "Look!"

Reiko turned. "Anesthesia? What have you …?" Her voice faltered. "Who _are _you?"

The woman standing on the stage undoubtedly resembled the nurse they had become so well acquainted with. She was dressed, however, in smart business wear: a black shirt and blazer with shiny buttons, and a matching neat skirt a little less than knee length. This alone gave her an austere, authoritative demeanour. But the significant changes were subtler. Her stance was erect, her movements quick and decisive. Her face had an aspect of calm imperiousness, a strength of feature hinting that this new Anesthesia was accustomed to command those around her. The nose was regal, the forehead and cheekbones high and proud. The mouth, with its twist of cruel humour, was the only reminder of the nurse's customary frivolity.

Yet the most profound change was in the eyes.

The laughing blue orbs Anesthesia had worn were gone, entirely. Replacing them were irises the colour of ripe almonds, the black mirrors of the pupils seeming to look on vistas of imagination far beyond the limits of the nurse's casual facetiousness. The red gleam within them was perhaps only a reflection of the lurid lighting, yet somehow served to convey the intensity of a burning intelligence. The owner of those eyes would use every available means to further her goals, would stop at nothing.

"I am Dr Adriana Cutter."

The voice too had altered. The Latino accent was pronounced, and Reiko realised that the woman she saw, and the woman she heard were for the first time integrated one with another

She said, "You – and not Anesthesia – are the person who planned all this."

"That is correct. The sustained effort and drive behind such a concept are quite beyond her weak capabilities." She regarded Reiko, chin on hand. "Anesthesia often underestimated your intelligence. I made no such error. That is why I've brought you here."

"Brought?"

Dr Cutter grinned. The effect was infinitely more sinister than any of the nurse's efforts. "You may consider you came here of your own free will. From the viewpoint of the gods, we are all pieces on a chessboard. It's merely a matter of altering your perspective."

"You believe yourself to be like a god?"

"Let's just say that I'm capable of observing events from a higher frame of reference, _mia querida._"

Reiko absorbed this. She asked, "What has happened to Anesthesia?"

"Oh, she's still here – unfortunately. I can even imitate her if it makes you feel more comfortable." The doctor's voice was suddenly Anesthesia's, the sneering tone so pronounced she seemed to be mocking herself. "Eventually I will find a permanent solution to this problem. For now she makes a convenient front for my plans. But she is a ghost, a shell of a human being. A fragile ego formed from the juvenile bullying of a bunch of silly upper class _ingles_ schoolgirls. _Imbecil_es who thought it would be amusing to persecute a young, naïve homesick teenager. Even though I'd earned my place amongst them, had more brains in my little finger than in their whole gross bodies. What a travesty that someone of my abilities should be displaced from the seat of reason, from the throne of my soul by the personality of an idle, pleasure-seeking debutante! But I fought back. I would not allow her to waste my genius in frivolity and debauchery."

Reiko frowned, "So you're claiming she isn't a real person? That she's a kind of schizoid self you adopted to help you overcome the bullying?"

"Of course! A pathetic wastrel without a single useful notion in her head!"

"She might disagree. Does she know what you think of her?"

"Quite possibly. However her stubborn self-love is proof against any criticism. Otherwise her whole personality construct would collapse."

Reiko nodded. "And I suppose you claim to be the original, the real Adriana Cutter?"

The doctor gave a sly smile. "Actually, no; or at least not quite. The original has gone beyond recall. And that brings us to the nub of the matter before us, the whole reason for our presence here." She jumped lightly off the stage, sat down in the same position Anesthesia had lately occupied.

Gesturing for them to sit, she said expansively, "You may as well be comfortable while I explain."

Reiko took a place beside her, but Benikage pointedly remained on her feet.

Cutter shrugged, "As you wish. I will try to be as brief as the difficulty of the subject allows. To begin with I must relate how I discovered the formula for the first of the three drugs."

Benikage put in with, "Three? Anesthesia spoke only of two."

Softly Dr Cutter said, "Well spotted my dog-faced ninja! You have yet to experience its effects, but it was the first and best. Serendipity - a happy accident - led to its discovery."

Reiko said, "Maybe I'll save you time if I tell you my guess. You were trying to research a drug to recover your original self, and banish Anesthesia."

Dr Cutter nodded slowly. "I was right in my assessment of you. You have unplumbed depths of perception, perhaps even latent leadership qualities. We are far more alike than you realise." She teased a lock of hair back from her face. "Indeed my intention was to be done with Anesthesia. However with her personality dominating, I was unable to conduct my research properly, being restricted to moments of weakness, tiredness or illness. Consequently the elixir which I stumbled upon, while it subjugated the part of me which was Anesthesia, did so in a way I had not expected."

Reiko said, "It revealed a side of you which you despised and hated."

"This time you're quite wrong. On the contrary, I gloried in it. Your misunderstanding was predictable however, and does not lessen my admiration." Dr Cutter paused to consider. "A literary reference could help to explain my attitude in clearer terms. Are you familiar with the short story by the Scottish writer, Robert Louis Stevenson, entitled, _'The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde?'"_

Benikage shook her head, but Reiko answered dubiously, "I've seen a film called something like that. I have to say it was rather ridiculous."

"Yes, how appalling! The movies often ruin great works of literature; although sometimes something of the original remains. In the films, as in the book, Dr Jekyll is a well-respected physician. He discovers a potion which changes his physical appearance, and his character along with it, into someone who _seems _the exact opposite, the devilish Mr Hyde. In this guise he commits a number of misdemeanours, and eventually is driven to the ultimate crime of murder. He seeks refuge in return to the form of Dr Jekyll, but the potion is unreliable. I'm sure you can guess at the ending of the morality tale." Dr Cutter sniffed.

"What the films often omit, but Stevenson makes clear, is that Mr Hyde's character is in fact_ drawn _from Dr Jekyll's. Hyde's vices are those which Jekyll has contemplated, or actually carried out, at a younger age. He is Jekyll free from the constraints of conventional morality, under which he has often struggled. Jekyll regards Hyde initially with dislike, but also as a breath of wondrous freedom."

Reiko asked, "Why does this matter? Either way, what Hyde did was wrong."

"Because, _mia querida_, Stevenson's story illustrates the truth of my discovery. That we hold within ourselves potentialities which, for one reason or another, we suppress, and that these hidden characteristics can be set free to form a new, coherent personality, something which I have named the_ doppleganger self_. Imagine the wealth of human potential that can thus be unlocked, a veritable treasure trove! All of the things which we block, which prevent us from realising our dreams, of becoming the persons that we truly ought can be unleashed by the drug which I have discovered. Using its powers, I put Anesthesia in her place, and rose to become the head scientist of a multi-national corporation with resources and influence that make most governments look like parish councils.

Naturally I continued my research, devising two other formulae which prepared a subject to receive the drug, including the black roses. I now intend to present my discoveries to the world – after producing convincing evidence of their benefits. And that's where you come in."

Reiko exclaimed, "Me?"

"In the guise of Anesthesia, I have established a prominent position within the Rumble Roses organisation, a useful testing ground for my experiments. While in this role, I identified you as a wrestler with the capability to become Rose of Roses. Your speed and technique are exceptional, your determination and endurance considerable. However there's still something missing: a desire to see yourself as the best, a focused ruthlessness. My conclusion is that your relationship with Dixie Clemets has reproduced that with your mother, Kamikaze Rose; a relationship not of equals but of subordinate and superior. You are therefore the perfect subject to receive the benefits of my treatment. I intend you to head my stable of enhanced wrestlers who will demonstrate the value of my research to the world. It will be the beginning of the transformation not only of Rumble Roses but of humanity itself."

Dr Cutter had got to her feet to walk to and fro while making this declamatory speech. She now folded her arms, and turned to Reiko. "Well, what do you say?"

"Let me be clear about this. You want me to win the Rumble Roses tournament for you after taking a cocktail of illegal drugs. This you say will benefit humanity."

Cutter waved a hand impatiently. "Drugs that are currently not approved by the FDA. But essentially, yes."

"Did you really think I was likely to agree? Apart from the cheating involved, everyone who's taken those drugs has behaved despicably, or as though completely insane."

The medic regarded her with amusement. "Perhaps I didn't think _you _would. But Reiko Within might. During these past few days she has been clamouring to be born. And she's very close now."

"She isn't currently taking the decisions."

"Very well. Let me try to ease your fears. I guarantee the drug will not have the same effect on you as Makoto, or Dixie or Aisha."

"That's not particularly reassuring!"

"Look, Makoto was an extreme example of delayed adolescence; her reaction was always going to be a bit exaggerated. Then Miss Spencer's double dose of the drug brought her to the point of psychosis. As for Dixie and Aisha, they're hardly very balanced individuals, are they?"

"Maybe not. But Miss Spencer said she experienced the torments of the damned."

"Ah, dear Miss Spencer! I was unable to resist involving her; her case was so fascinating! You must remember her fastidious and prurient nature, reluctant to admit to hidden desires, especially for her delectable student. Of course she would recoil in horror when confronted by them. Yet her doppelganger self, if given a chance, would have been a stronger, clearer thinking, more honest woman. So she had a little penchant for S and M? It's a valid lifestyle choice these days."

Reiko said, shaking her head, "I don't see why you think it'll be any different for me."

"Like me, you have an adventurous imagination which will accept the changes. Not like those muscle headed Texans. I knew, when I allowed you to match yourself against them, you would triumph. That was Reiko Within again. In any important phase of evolution, some lumbering dinosaurs get left behind and are replaced by faster, nimbler, quicker witted species."

Reiko held up her hands in a gesture of incomprehension. "What can I possibly have to gain from any of this?"

"Ah! Now you're asking the right questions!" Adriana Cutter stepped forward to rest a cool hand on Reiko's shoulder, massaging it very slightly. "The pay off is self-knowledge. You've been wondering, haven't you, about that other Reiko, the one surrounded by darkness. You want to know what she's like, and why she's there in the first place. You see, my description of the drug to Miss Spencer as a truth serum was quite accurate. And you need to know the truth about yourself, don't you, my dear?"

Reiko experienced a strange sensation. She said, "I … I don't know what you mean."

Emphatically, Dr Cutter declared, "Let her come out!"

Benikage had listened to these exchanges with barely concealed impatience. Now she could no longer restrain herself.

"Do not touch her! I have heard enough of this nonsense!"

Dr Cutter pointedly continued to rub Reiko's shoulder and neck, while regarding the ninja contemptuously. She said, "It seems the dog has started to bark after being left too long in the hot sun."

"There is no need to listen further to your insane ranting. You and your diabolical schemes are finished. I have reported my discoveries to Japan, including the layout of your base in the Florida marshes. We placed your perverted mannequin under arrest during the riot. By now operatives in my section will have taken possession of your headquarters. The evidence against you will be overwhelming. You would be wise to submit without further resistance."

Dr Cutter took a single step backwards, calmly resting her chin on her hand as though considering. With a slow shake of her head, and a slight smile she said, "Ah, so I'm finished, am I? Ninja are invading my hidden base and meanwhile the fearless secret agent has learnt all my plans. I must congratulate you, Mistress Bond. You have the movie script down to a tee. Well, what can I do? It would hardly be cinematic of me to give up without a fight. The audience are all waiting for you to beat me to a pulp, before tossing me into my own piranha pool."

Unsmilingly Benikage said, "Your childish humour is redundant. However if you wish to provide me with the further pleasure of subduing you, I will gladly accept it."

"Spoken like a true heroine! Your jaw may not be so square, but your lines certainly are wooden, _government dog_." Dr Cutter rubbed her nose thoughtfully. "Hardly surprising. The _Otugumi_ Unit produce very efficient ninja, but cultivating agents with flare and well-rounded personalities was never their forte." Her lips stretched into a smirk. "Oh, have I astonished you? I know one of those silly code words your kind loves so much. Shall I tell you another? Don't worry, I'll whisper it this time, so Reiko can't hear."

Benikage said, with barely suppressed fury, "I will tolerate this mockery no longer! Prepare yourself!"

"On the contrary its _you_ who need to prepare yourself, my little doggy. Your whole reality construct is about to undergo a radical renovation. It will make the job the Italians did on the Sistine Chapel look like a minor retouch."

"What is this nonsense?"

"Nonsense is what you're talking, silly mutt! You've forgotten that in this century, corporate power rules. Governments, sporting organisations, all of them bow the knee to the _zaibatsu _big bucks. And that includes overconfident state lackeys with a metal rod up their poop chutes."

"You cannot buy me. Cease this pathetic prattle."

"On the contrary, my poor poochy, I have _already_ bought you. From your own dear boss. Whose name I am about to whisper." Dr Cutter lent forward to suit the action to her words in Benikage's ear.

The ninja recoiled. "Impossible! She would never betray me!"

"Ah, the sweet pain of broken faith!" Dr Cutter drew a deep breath as though inhaling a tonic. "You will accept a bill of sale then? With your own name on it? Your real name, that is. Or have you forgotten it after so long calling yourself Crimson Shadow?" The medic produced a scroll as if by magic.

"My name …" Benikage muttered. She unrolled the parchment, scanned the _kanji _lettering. "No, it cannot be!" She staggered, her face drained of colour.

"Oh, trust me, it is, it is." Dr Cutter gave a shark's grin. "I always find the moment when the truth dawns … delightfully refreshing." She gestured expansively. "You may now appreciate the full breadth of my plan, as well as the delicious irony. To allow the _Otugumi_'s star agent the opportunity to test herself against my defences. What better way to ensure her suitability as a candidate for my Enhanced Human project, and as a donor for future genetic material." Observing the _kunoichi_'s devastated expression, she said jeeringly, "Poor doggy, lost your master? You needn't howl long, your new one will treat you well enough, provided you sit up and beg when asked."

The scroll was held limply in Benikage's hand, her whole form slumped.

Still obviously relishing her downcast look, Cutter continued, "You know, the moment to savour most in the whole affair, apart from this one of course, was when the _Otugumi_ ninja 'rescued' Evil Rose while she was having a crisis of faith. It was most obliging of them. The riot it provoked was also rather amusing. Naturally she was returned promptly to my possession." The medic took out a mobile, spoke softly into it.

The elevator dinged. The doors drew back to reveal a familiar masked figure, although she was now clad in all black demonic attire. She bounded forward to take her place at Adriana Cutter's side.

Benikage groaned. "It is true."

"Indeed. And after that brief interruption, we shall continue our search for the truth on Reiko's behalf. If she will oblige by removing her jacket…" The mobile was replaced in the doctor's hand by a flat plastic derm. "You may prefer this method of application to a big, pointy needle."

Reiko, looking at the rubber-clad wrestler said, "I was wondering about her …"

"No doubt you were. But all in good time." Cutter tapped the derm meaningfully.

"No!" Benikage staggered forward, her face working. "I have been manipulated enough! If to prevent this evil, I must renounce my profession, so be it. As a free agent of Justice, I will oppose you." She tore off her headgear, liberating her hair from its confines.

Dr Cutter sighed. "How very tiresome!" She snapped her fingers. The black clad wrestler lashed out with her long legs, sending the traumatised ninja spinning backwards. She followed up the attack with a somersault, taking her forward to bear her opponent to the ground. Once there she began to savagely punch her in the face.

Cutter watched with sadistic satisfaction. "The dog has done its business and is being punished!" Observing that Reiko was doing nothing to interfere, she said, "My dear, we seem to be in accord. Shall we now continue with the matter in hand?"

Reiko watched as Benikage was dragged to her feet, punched repeatedly in the stomach, and eventually flung sideways to sprawl helplessly at Dr Cutter's feet. The doctor casually set her heel on the ninja's neck.

Reiko said, "All right, I agree. But don't hurt her anymore."

Cutter smiled. "Provided she has learned her lesson."

Reiko said to Benikage, "Please, don't try to interfere. This is what I've chosen to do. You'll only earn yourself more pain."

The medic eased up the pressure on the _kunoichi's _throat, allowing her to gasp weakly, "Why are you doing this? Why take the drug when you've seen the effect on your friends?"

Reiko's voice was far off, and she seemed to be speaking more to herself than Benikage. "Because I have to. Because there are some stories that have to be told until the end. There's no other way for me to find out what I must know."

Cutter said, "Did you hear that, you pathetic cur?"

The ninja spat, but then grudgingly nodded her head as far as she was able. Reiko began to take off her black leather jacket. She was still wearing only a bra top and pants underneath.

As Dr Cutter prepared the derm, Reiko asked, "Why me? Why did you choose me for this … experiment?"

"Why you? Your reaction speed and potential as a wrestler were factors. But … " Dr Cutter seemed to reflect, bared her teeth in a smile. "Perhaps it was something about your naivety, your purity, if you prefer, that quaint, old-fashioned _trusting_ quality." With swift efficiency, the medic placed the derm over Reiko's right breast. Reiko instinctively raised a hand towards it.

"Don't worry, my dear, it works better nearer the heart, though not too near. Now there may be some slight darkening of the skin afterwards." The doctor gave a chuckle. "A harmless souvenir."

Reiko began to ask, "Will it …?" She experienced a sudden disorientation, as if the room and its occupants were beginning to revolve slightly.

Reiko fell to her knees. "I feel so strange." She felt her breast. "It burns!" The sensation of everything spinning was becoming quite dizzying.

Dr Cutter's voice came to her as though echoing down a long tunnel. "It's what we in the profession call an overdose. I'm afraid this _is_ going to hurt."

Reiko looked upwards through darkening vision. The whole world seemed to be rotating around one point – and that point was the doctor's laughing face. Her expression was one of utter madness. Reiko realised then that Dr Cutter was quite insane, had probably been so for years.

And after that the yawning blackness swallowed everything.

* * *

*There is no mention of Dr Cutter's first name or indeed her nationality. Adriana is a common Latino name, which also appropriately means 'dark' or 'the dark one'.

FDA: Food and Drugs Administration (American) responsible, amongst other things, for licensing drugs.

_Zaibatsu: _mega-corporation, originally referring to one of the big Japanese firms, now more generally meaning any huge globe-spanning multi-national. *


	18. Outer Darkness

Chapter Eighteen Outer Darkness

Darkness. Pain.

_I'm gonna hurt you real bad. I'm gonna hurt you real bad._

_Don't worry, Reiko, it'll soon be over. _

_Sorry, hon', I said you had to beg._

_Don't cry, darling, it'll only hurt for a little while. Look, I'll make it go away. I'll make it go away._

"Mommy! Mommy!" Reiko shrieked.

"Reiko?" Her mother knelt, shrouding her daughter with dark, perfumed waves of hair. "I told you to practice your blocking. I'm sorry, I forget sometimes you're only little."

"You hurt me, mommy!" Reiko began to howl, tears spurting from her eyes.

"I know. I know. Wrestlers get hurt from time to time."

"I don't want to be hurt!" Reiko wept.

"Don't cry, darling, it'll only hurt for a little while." Her mother took her in her arms. "Look, I'll make it go away." She felt a soft kiss on her cheek. "See. That's my little girl, so strong and brave and beautiful."

_So strong and brave and beautiful._

The sound of someone sobbing, in heart breaking, soul rending torment. Then a multitude of voices joining, louder and louder.

"_Gaijin_! Half-breed! Yankee bitch!" The circle of schoolgirls drew tight around their prey, grey uniforms, black hair, a babble of hyena-like calls. Their faces cloned with the same look of mob hatred. The object of their spite standing isolated, defiant amidst the tumult.

Reiko completed the breathing routine her mother had taught her. As the pounding of her heart subsided, the sickness in her stomach and the urge to scream and cry left her.

What did mom say about handling many opponents at the same time?

_Her mother paused in the middle of her exercise routine, a slight frown on her face. _

"_Why do you want to know that, Reiko-chan? In the ring you usually only have to deal with one or two wrestlers? Is anything wrong?"_

"_Oh, I just wondered, mom. Remember that time when you fought four women in an exhibition match and beat them all? How did you do that?"_

"_Well in any group of fighters, one will be dominant or the leader. Identify that opponent and deal with them first, and the rest will lose heart." Tilting her daughter's chin up, she added, "You sure everything's ok?"_

Reiko concentrated on the seething ruck. Eko Nakamura, beautiful, high cheek-boned face distorted in a snarl, stood half a head taller than the rest, almost as tall as Reiko, jammed up against her slightly shorter, side-kick, Hatsumi, all mouth amidst a podgy face.

"Reiko Hinomoto's a Yankee whore!"

Moving with the speed of thought, Reiko snaked out an arm to encircle Eko's neck, driving her leg deep inside those of the surprised schoolgirl to flip her to the ground. Instantly Reiko applied a ground hold with her foot, while the astonished Eko gurgled and choked. The watching schoolgirls were stunned into silence.

"Well, Eko," Reiko said calmly, pleasantly. "I believe you were saying something about my father"

"Uh, uh, I can't breathe! Reiko, please let me go!"

"Perhaps in a moment, Eko. You were saying?"

"He's … umph … a most respected business man, Reiko. Urgh, everyone likes him. Oh, stop, please!"

"You don't have a problem with him being American?"

"N,n, not at all!" Eko's face was turning a horrible red colour.

"You kiss the arse of all Americans that whipped your grandfather in the war! SAY IT!

"I … I … aah … alright … I kiss their arses!"

Reiko kicked Eko aside, immediately grabbed Hatsumi round the neck. The fat girl was trembling like a leaf.

"How are we today, Hatsumi?"

"Oh, Reiko, it was all Eko's idea. Please don't hurt me!"

"You remember, my mother Hatsumi?"

Y .. yes."

"She taught me this submission head lock. It's supposed to be excruciatingly painful. I've just needed someone deserving to try it on."

"No, no, don't aaaeee!" shrieked Hatsumi. Reiko waited for the blubbering to subside.

"How did you like that, Hatsumi? Now tell me about my mother."

"Wh … wha?"

"C'mon, Hatsumi, you've heard about her on television, at school. Do I need to remind you?"

"I … I … aargh, please no! She's … she was our most famous wrestler of all time. And, and … ooh, don't … the only woman to hold the Rose of Roses title for three years in a row … and, and …"

"Yes, and …?"

Hatsumi sobbed in terror, the tears flooding from her eyes. "Reiko, have mercy … I don't know what else you want." Screaming, "She's dead … she's dead, OK? And I'm so, so sorry!"

"I do believe you are, Hatsumi. Now has anyone anything else to say? No? Just get out of here, all of you."

The pack of schoolgirls slunk away, one by one. Reiko remained sitting cross-legged on her own.

A hand fell on her shoulder. "Reiko, are you alright?"

"Fujiko?" Reiko stared dully into the distance. "Yeah, everything's fine."

Pain. Pain.

_You know you're going to have to submit. Make it easy on yourself._

_Shut up, just shut up, will you?_

_The truth. You don't want to accept the truth._

"You know you're going to have to submit. Make it easy on yourself." Fujiko slightly tightened her hold, pulling back on Reiko's head.

"That's not how mom taught us." Reiko writhed tenaciously. "We keep fighting right until the end."

"Ok, you asked for it." Her sister's voice was detached. She wrenched violently at Reiko's head, causing her to scream in agony.

"Yes! I submit, I submit!"

"You're so predictable." Fujiko released Reiko, sounding bored. "You become more and more like her every day. A clone."

"What if I do? I'm proud of it."

"Proud? Ha!"

Reiko got to her feet. "I'll best you next time. I'm getting very close."

Fujiko said, "There may not be a next time for quite a while." She brushed a blonde tress back from her forehead.

Reiko said, "Surely you're not going yet? You're in line to win the Japanese championship in your first full year as a professional. No one's done that since …" her voice trailed off.

"My flight's booked to New York. Someone has to do this."

Reiko sat down disconsolately in the middle of the practice ring. "What's the point?"

"You have to ask? You saw the copy of the autopsy, the _real _autopsy, yourself."

Reiko said, "If it's a copy, how can it be the real one? In any case its lies, all lies. Mom would never have taken drugs."

"You're being obtuse. How do you know what mom might have done?"

"I know – and so do you. She loved us too much to risk her life in that way."

Fujiko said bitterly, "Maybe she cared more about winning than us. She was always away on some tour."

"She often came back to help us train."

"Of course!" Fujiko's hazel-coloured eyes rolled up ironically. "So she could turn us into little clones of herself. And how well she's succeeded in your case."

"Shut up! Just shut up, won't you?!"

Fujiko bent over Reiko, turning her chin up to face her. Reiko stared back sullenly at her sister's fine-boned features.

Fujiko said remorselessly, "If this autopsy was fake, why did the tournament directors suppress it? Because it's the truth. Mom died in the ring because she took performance drugs. You don't want to accept the truth, do you Reiko?"

"I know what I know. We aren't even sure if they _did _suppress it."

"Ok, then someone has to find out the truth. You stay here and cherish your illusions if you want. I'm leaving." Fujiko turned away.

"Fujiko!"

"What?"

"Let's not part like this. I'll come to see you off at the airport. I – "

"Come if you want. I don't care either way."

_You don't want to accept the truth. I don't care either way._

_I don't care either way._

"Nanami!" Reiko exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here? We're not supposed to meet before the match." She took in the young women's delicate features, her wide dark eyes briefly meeting Reiko's, then sliding away. As always, Nanami Yoshida was immaculately made up, her long, black hair well brushed and gleaming. But something about her pensive expression seemed foreboding.

"Hello, Reiko." Nanami nervously stroked her cheek. "I'm sorry. I have something to ask you."

Reiko glanced left and right along the corridor, gestured to the locker room. "Alright, come in quickly."

Once inside, Nanami stood uneasily, apparently uncertain how to begin. Then, as if impelled to speak, she said abruptly:

"Reiko, you remember our last fight? The one where you beat me within three minutes with a submission?" Reiko nodded. Nanami flashed her an embarrassed glance. "The match you won easily, as you have every time since you became champion of Japan."

"What does that … " Reiko tried to interject but Nanami continued as if she'd said nothing, her words now coming in a passionate rush.

"When you humiliated me and hurt me, like you humiliate and hurt all of us, over and over. We haven't got a chance, and I'm sick of it."

"Nanami!" Reiko cried out. She added more gently. "Look, I can see you're upset, but I'm sure when you think about this afterwards …"

"Afterwards!" Nanami gave a short laugh. "It'll be the same as always! You're bigger and stronger and faster. You make us all look pathetic. A laughing stock."

"C'mon." Reiko sounded embarrassed. "You're being too hard on yourself. All you need is to train harder like I do and maybe …"

"It'll never be enough!" Nanami's voice had taken on a whining note of self-pity, mixed with an edge of bitter anger. "Since Fujiko left, there's been no one who can compete with you. No one. And you take it out on the rest of us. Its not fair either because your father …"

"Wait just a moment!" Reiko spoke sharply. "I'm the champion because I'm the best wrestler, and there's an end to it."

"Whatever you say." Nanami sounded resigned. "Look, we both know the result of this match is a foregone conclusion. And so …"

"And so you're going to quit, Nanami …"

"It doesn't have to be like that." The slighter built wrestler was now looking at the floor. "Look, we can make it look as good as you like. You can even let me seem to get on top for a while. The fans will love it. And then … whenever you want … I'll go down. Only …" her tone was tiny, fragile. "Only please don't hurt me like you did before."

Silence fell in the locker room. Nanami's head remained bowed as if in supplication. The seconds passed.

Suddenly her chin was seized, her head forced upwards to face Reiko.

Reiko's eyes were like stones, staring directly into her opponent's fear-widened ones.

"Don't worry, Nanami." She teased a bead of perspiration so that it trickled down the wrestler's cheek. "I won't hurt you like I did before. When I was little, my mother taught me a certain submission hold. All this time I've only had occasion to use it once. I think I'll try it on you in this match. It'll be a good lesson for you."

_What happens if we go across and can't come back? Will we be like lost souls?_

_Like lost souls?_

Darkness, all pervading. Darkness from the pits of hell.

_Its what we in the profession call an overdose. I'm afraid this IS going to hurt._

Pain, the pain is fading. The darkness is fading. And, now … light.

* * *

Dr Cutter said softly, "So you see how it is."

Reiko became aware she was lying on the floor. She ached in every muscle. Her clothing felt tighter than usual.

She felt her arms, her legs. They seemed to have thickened, like tree trunks. Her stomach muscles too, were tighter, stronger. On her breast the derm had darkened the skin to the blackness of a tattoo, forming a distinct shape. The image of a winged demon.

She whimpered. A battered looking Benikage was instantly at her side, supporting her. Dr Cutter stood above her, the same crazy grin on her face. She spoke again.

"How do you feel about the new you?"

A wave of sorrow, like a wall of blackness descending, overcame Reiko. She wept uncontrollably.

Dr Cutter said, "There, there. It's hard to deal with at first. I felt the same. But you will thank me, in the end, for showing you the truth. And you will never need to cry again. You just won't want to do it."

Benikage put an arm around Reiko protectively. She said, fiercely, "_Akumabito!_ Monster! What have you done to her?"

Patronisingly, Dr Cutter said, "I haven't _done_ anything to her. I have revealed her true self. Anything else that happens is down to Reiko to decide."

Benikage indicated Reiko's bulging muscles. "And these?"

Cutter sniggered, "A useful side-effect! A strong body to accompany a strong mind. You could have chosen this too."

"_Akumabito!"_

Reiko abruptly stopped crying. She said, "Take your hands off me!" and roughly pushed Benikage aside. The ninja looked astonished.

Reiko's voice had changed. It was harsh, uncaring. Her eyes stared almost as madly as the physician's, filled with anger and hatred. She leapt easily to her feet, stretched herself, then swaggered arrogantly forward to confront Dr Cutter. Face to face, they looked strangely alike.

The doctor stepped back, as if to better examine Reiko, stroking her chin, and nodding.

"Just as I predicted. You have all the signs of complete transformation. Magnificent! You will be the crowning glory of my collection."

Reiko said nothing, but a sneer passed across her face.

Dr Cutter said confidently. "You see everything now, don't you? How your mother manipulated you, even from beyond the grave. And your father did nothing to stop it." She laughed. "He even gave you her name, rather than his own. How pathetic!"

"I see. And it was, very pathetic."

"The part of you that resented that control, and that was sick of being so_ nice _to everyone_ … "_ Cutter's tone showed her complete contempt for the idea "… that is the Doppelganger Soul I have freed forever."

There was a groan from behind Reiko. Dixie Clemets, eyes bleary, hair askew, staggered forward.

She gasped, "Reiko, remember!"

Reiko turned to regard the Texan cynically. She said, "You're not looking too good, Dix'."

Dr Cutter gave a loud bray of mirth. "Cowgirl! This time you're too late to rescue little Reiko. Who's not so little anymore." To Reiko, she said, "Why don't you show your former friend how strong you've become? Beat her within an inch of her life!"

Reiko thoughtfully flexed her new muscles. She looked at Dixie, an arm raised in mute appeal, at Benikage, crouching in readiness, then back at Dr Cutter, smirking in anticipation.

She said, "Nobody's gonna order _me _around, lady."

"What … what did you say?"

Reiko said, "My mother may've been manipulative, my father may've been pathetic. Not as manipulative or pathetic as you, Dr Cutter. One moment you ring the Liberty Bell, the next you expect us to grovel under your jackboot."

She spat deliberately on the marble floor.

"You've no more left behind the part of you that's Anesthesia than you have resentment, jealousy or petty vindictiveness. 'Enhanced?' Ha! You're not the first of a new master race, you're a schizophrenic mess."

An expression of puzzlement crossed Dr Cutter's face. She said, "I brought you to birth, I showed you the truth, created you. You owe me big time. Do as I say. Crush that retarded hick under your boot like an insect."

Reiko suddenly stretched out one arm, and seized Dr Cutter by the throat, lifting her effortlessly into the air. Cutter choked and struggled in disbelief.

"You think that I'm grateful to you for involving me in your half-arsed schemes? Think again, lady! I go my own way."

Cutter managed to gasp, "Help me!"

The black masked wrestler sprang into action. As she approached, Reiko flung Dr Cutter aside, just in time to counter her opponent's attempted grapple. Ducking around, Reiko kneed the rubber-clad woman in the stomach, then executed a leaping uppercut of unstoppable speed and power. She took hold of the still-dazed wrestler and, turning her upside down, dropped her head first with a stunning pile driver. Then she quickly sat on her opponent, to hold her paralysed between her legs.

Dixie and Benikage moved smartly forward to flank Reiko protectively.

Dixie said, "You're finished, Cutter. You're outnumbered three to one."

From behind Dixie came the sound of someone coughing and retching. Then Aisha said, "Make that four to one."

Regaining her feet and brushing herself down, Dr Cutter seemed to have recovered something of her aplomb.

She said, "Fortunately I need only one. I happen to have brought along another of my little experiments. Lady X! Come up here now!"

The last comment was uttered into the mobile phone she had quickly produced. For a moment nothing happened. Then, from outside the mansion, a strange mechanical howling could be heard, as of an engine pushed beyond its normal safety limits to the point where it was about to explode. The sound was loudest from the direction of Aisha's decorative windows, the stained glass figures of dealers, pimps and johns seeming to stare out in reproof. The screeching gained in volume, until the building appeared to be shaking, causing all present to cover their ears.

Dixie shouted, "Everyone hit the deck!"

There was barely time to comply with her order before the glass of every single window shattered, the multitude of coloured shards flying across the room in a deadly hail. The arena and stage provided just enough cover to shelter the cowering group.

Silence fell. The wrestlers cautiously regained their feet, except for Reiko, who was still pinning Cutter's henchwoman to the floor.

Strands of mist were drifting through the now vacant window frames, moonlight mingling with arc lights, fog with dry ice to veil the ring in a luminous cloud of vapours, shot through with silver and red. In the very centre of the mist-shrouded arena, a woman crouched, her head bowed. Her sudden appearance seemed to defy reasonable explanation, although it could conceivably be inferred from her position that she had just landed after leaping through the shattered windows. But considering their height above ground level, a superhuman level of agility and strength would have been required.

Slowly, and a trifle jerkily, the woman rose to stand tall and statuesque. Her height was remarkable, the body frame powerful looking, limbs long, but elegant. The metallic sheen of her clothing mirrored the moon, her hair confined in a long pony tail glimmering silver in the cold light. As she became fully erect, she elevated her head to look directly towards the group gathered round the stage.

Aisha gasped, "Oh my god!"

Dixie exclaimed, "What in tarnation ….?"

This time the effect they were witnessing almost certainly wasn't the result of reflected light or contact lenses. The woman's eyes glowed from within to form two red points of light which projected forward to shine on them like laser beams. Eyes which had nothing about them of humanity.

The woman took several steps forward, a faint whining noise accompanying her movements,. As the mists drew aside, her hybrid nature became clearer. While the upper arms, upper legs, joints, breasts and parts of the belly showed soft flesh, much of the rest of the body was encased in hard steel. Rather than being some kind of external armour, the metal appeared to form part of her very substance. The waist and hips were almost entirely replaced with machine parts designed to swivel and pivot. Even the face was mostly plated with metal, the exceptions being the surprisingly sensuous mouth, high forehead and proud chin. If any expression could be discerned, then it was one of serene indifference.

Dr Cutter said, "Lady X is a _cyborg_ constructed from the DNA of famous wrestlers - to which I conveniently had access – and the latest cybernetic technology available to my company. While the goal of my research was to produce alternate personalities who were superior but fully human, Lady X was designed purely for military purposes. Although far less flexible and limited in her ability to think independently, the fact she is part machine makes her more than ten times stronger than a normal human, or even than an enhanced one. As you have temporarily thwarted one of my projects, its appropriate that I'm going to use the other to punish you."

She sighed. "In a way, its such a pity. Bringing you all into a state of snivelling subjection through my drugs would have been so much more … artistic. Dixie, I'd have shown you the real meaning of pain and humiliation. As for our wonderfully naïve _kunoichi_, I'm sure I would've thought of something suitably perverse to subject _her_ to. Aisha's already damaged goods, of course, but everyone likes to see a stuck up celebrity suffer. And Reiko, my little Japanese kitten, I was particularly looking forward to _enjoying_ you. Ah well, I shall have to be content with a massacre instead."

Lady X surveyed the group of wrestlers, her laser eyes coming to rest on the masked woman in Reiko's grasp, then on Reiko herself.

Chuckling, the doctor said, "Excellent! Lady X, you have identified the main threat. Eliminate her!"

Lady X strode forward purposefully. Benikage shouted out, "Keep away from her, all of you!"

Ignoring the ninja's warning, Dixie vaulted into the ring to stand in the way of the advancing colossus. Her feet were planted firmly apart, her fists bunched.

She said, "When I step aside for a _machine_, it'll be time to draw ma pension. If you're part human, ya can bleed. Ya'll have to get by me first."

The cyborg continued forward remorselessly, with no sign that she was even aware of Dixie's presence or intentions. Taking a short run up, Dixie launched herself into a flying drop kick, aiming at the exposed flesh she could see above the metallic juncture of the waist.

The Texan's full weight and strength were behind the kick, as she crashed into her target, but Lady X merely stopped and staggered slightly. Dixie rolled to her feet, and aimed a ferocious punch at the same location. This time the cyborg reacted by seizing hold of Dixie's arm before it could connect. Rotating from the waist in a smooth, mechanical motion, she sent Dixie flying across the ring, to land in a crumpled heap. Not sparing her downed opponent a glance, Lady X resumed her confident progress, stepping smartly through the ropes.

Bravely, futilely Aisha tried to block her path. She said with braggadocio, "Now I'm only gonna warn ya once ..."

Almost casually, the automaton swept her aside and sent her sprawling.

Reiko had already delivered a stunning blow to the masked wrestler's head and was beginning to disentangle herself from the hold, but now Lady X towered above her. The woman with red eyes reached out a silver gloved hand.

Clearly enjoying herself, Dr Cutter shouted, "Kill her, kill them all!"

Lady X froze, her arm extended.

Furiously Dr Cutter repeated. "Kill her! Obey my orders, you malfunctioning piece of metal!"

Lady X did not move.

Behind Reiko, Benikage began to chuckle softly. "So, Demon, your puppet will no longer dance to your tune? Someone has cut her strings, perhaps?"

Anesthesia's alter ego aimed a vicious look at the ninja. "What is it? What have you done?"

Benikage laughed again. She said, "It matters nothing if I tell you, as you can do nothing. During my infiltration of your base, I discovered your metal monster and reprogrammed her."

"Impossible! I examined your profile and you do not possess the skill."

"You are correct. However if you have penetrated our organisation to that extent, you will have heard of Professor Hiroshi Namura. He provided me with a modem allowing him to hack into your systems remotely. He learned that Lady X was an illegal project, which you concealed from your multi-national executive board, and built with misappropriated components. These included an electronic brain, hard-wired with what he called the Three Laws of Robotics, the first being …"

"_No robot may harm a human being, or through inaction allow a human to come to harm."_ Dr Cutter slapped her thigh in frustration. "The miserable pervert! He must have lusted after you to grant you this favour!"

"I always believed him to be my friend," Benikage said, with dignity. "And perhaps he suspected that I was to be betrayed. When he found you had rigged a bypass to allow the cyborg to kill, he restored the original programming, along with an anti-tamper device to short-circuit and destroy the robotic brain if any further interference occurred. And so when you activated Lady X …"

"She tried to prevent me harming _her_." Reiko indicated the wrestler in black, still slumped unconscious at her feet.

"And then _I _got in her way." Dixie looked none the worse for wear. "Wasn't she supposed to avoid hurting me too?"

"She continued to carry out her first priority," said Benikage. "Until given a direct order to kill."

"Kill! Fiddlesticks!" Dr Cutter looked exasperated beyond measure. "Enough of this nonsense!" Her expression suddenly changed, as something seemed to occur to her, and a cunning smile played across her lips. "But you have forgotten one important point. Your precious law cuts both ways. And _I _still control Lady X!" Addressing the robot directly, she commanded, "Lady X! Come with me, we're leaving."

"Wait a moment!" Aisha's resentment at her treatment by Dr Cutter was evident. "We're going to let her high-tail out of here after all she's done?"

Benikage put a restraining hand on her arm. "We cannot prevent her," she said softly.

"How true! The dog can't bite its master!" Dr Cutter was backing towards the service lift, making sure Lady X was between her and the group of wrestlers.

"Dr Cutter!" Reiko called after her, a curious expression on her face. "What of Fujiko?"

Dr Cutter paused, and considered. She said, cruelly, "All you need to know, Reiko dear, is that she hates you."

"You've talked to her?"

"She came and went. What else is there to say, other than …"

Reiko indicated the black-clad wrestler at her feet. "And her?"

Dr Cutter tittered. "I can see what you're thinking. Well, why don't you take a look? I always applaud the desire to see the truth unmasked."

Dixie knelt and pulled the wrestler's rubber skullcap forward over her face.

Bright red hair was uncovered, then a pale visage, eyes tight shut.

Reiko said slowly, "Candy Cane!"

"You were expecting maybe _Selina Kyle_? Or someone more closely related to you?" Dr Cutter evidently relished Reiko's obvious disappointment. "Keep her, the little brat. I could only gain her compliance with huge and frequent amounts of the drug. Of all the ungrateful, wilful, selfish little scapegraces I have ever met …"

Dixie rasped, "Get out of here, or so help me I'll tear your heart out before that machine can do anything."

Dr Cutter was by now standing in the elevator. Lady X moved forward to join her. The medic said abruptly, "Lady X, stop!" The cyborg stood motionless, facing the lift. Its master continued, "So Reiko, you truly want to know what happened to Fujiko? Come here, and I'll show you. But come without your bunch of sidekicks."

Reiko moved forward, but Dixie put a hand up to prevent her "Reiko, it could be a trap!"

Reiko said, "I've got to know!" She shouldered past Dixie and approached the lift.

Dr Cutter laughed. "Yes, you have to know or your life will be meaningless. Come closer." When Reiko was so near that her small, upturned nose was practically touching the scientist's longer one, Dr Cutter said, confidentially. "You see, she was given this mark. The same one you will have till the day you die."

"What mark?"

"Like this!" As if by magic, a scalpel was in Dr Cutter's hand. She struck out rapidly at Reiko's face. The Japanese woman leapt back, but the blade left a bloody cut from above her eyebrow to the bottom of her cheek.

In a rage, Dixie surged forward to the threshold of the lift, but Lady X spun and lifted her off her feet, to kick helplessly. The Texan shouted "You'll pay for this, you hell-spawned psycho!"

"Dear, dear!" Dr Cutter tutted, her finger on the lift button. "So full of sound and fury!" She nodded to Lady X. "Release her!" The cyborg sent the Southerner sprawling backwards. Dr Cutter surveyed her enemies with contempt. "None of you yet realises the full extent of my revenge. And the delicious thing is, you will each of you bring it upon yourself. Cowgirl, you will have only the bottle to ease your pain; poor Doggy, you'll be lost without your master; Reiko your quest for Fujiko will be futile. I wish each of you the worst – and now I must leave."

Aisha asked, "Hey, what about me?"

Dr Cutter said, "Your fate is to be the perpetual outsider. Appropriately enough." She laughed mockingly. "I consign each of you to your own private hell – the devil be with you all!" The lift doors closed on her insane laughter.

* * *

_*Akumabito! _(Japanese Slang) means 'Demon!'

_Selina Kyle:_ otherwise known as Catwoman. Evil Rose's black costume might be imagined to resemble hers.

Some references in this chapter were to the preceding story, _A Rose By Any Other Name. _If you haven't yet read it, now's your chance!

And stay tuned, there's yet more to come!*


	19. Valley of the Shadow

Chapter Nineteen Valley of the Shadow

The wrestlers gathered around Reiko. The welling of blood from the vertical cut did not seem too severe, and was already staunching. She said, "I'm all right. Leave me alone." Ignoring this protest, Dixie began work dabbing at the blood with a handkerchief.

Aisha said, "At least she didn't take your eye out like she planned."

A groan came from behind them. Candy Cane was staggering to her feet. Her hair was dishevelled, her green, feline eyes darted this way and that, and she looked like she was about to be sick.

She said, "This ain't happening, dudes." Taking in her surroundings, she added, "What _is_ this tacky joint?"

Leaving Dixie to attend to Reiko's wounds, Benikage and Aisha went to the teenager's assistance. Holding out a receptacle for Candy to throw up in, Aisha said evenly, "This here's my mansion, and I'd be obliged if you'd keep the floor clean."

"Yrggh!" Candy gagged, then projectile vomited. Only a small amount hit the basin.

Aisha shook her head sadly. "That Persian rug was imported specially."

Benikage said, "After being imprisoned in the dark for so long, some disorientation is understandable."

Candy said, "Dark? Prison? What are you talking about, dude?"

Aisha said, "That crazy nurse kept ya prisoner, didn't she?"

"All I remember is being in some swish hotel room with this creepy broad, Anesthesia. She said she was going to donate lotsa money to the orphanage I was brought up in if I helped her out. I was trying to enter the tournament to save it from closing down, but the dickhead organisers said I was too young. Anyway this nurse character was being like over-friendly, offering me drinks when I was under age and all. I thought what the hell, but then I kinda blacked out."

Aisha said, "She must've drugged ya."

"Omigod! Gross! I figured she was upta something the way she was eying me up! I would've done it anyway if it meant saving the orphanage."

Aisha muttered, "Hey, ya seem like a real sweet kid."

Benikage said, "She intended you to become a tool of evil."

"Wha …?" Candy stared in puzzlement at the ninja.

Aisha said, "She doped ya into becoming her private thug. Her enforcer. _Capiche?"_

Candy said, "The bitch! Still, I guess it could've been worse." Aisha rolled her eyes despairingly.

Uncertainly, Benikage asked, "Do you not remember being in a dark cell? Of me trying to rescue you, then the fighting?"

Candy said, "Dude, I have no idea what you're on, but you're getting me totally confused with someone else."

Benikage persisted, "Are you an initiate of the fifth grade at Takeo Temple?

"Tackyo what? What kind of nut job are you? I barely made the Fifth Grade at school." Candy rapidly surveyed the room. "That does it, you guys are freaks, I'm outa here!"

The two wrestlers tried to bar her exit, but Candy nimbly sprung onto one of the broken window ledges. A chorus of shouts wasn't enough to stop the teenager jumping. There was a heavy thump, followed by a yelp of pain.

The wrestlers raced to the window. Candy was no longer visible, but a clear trail of footprints led from the shrubbery beneath to the garden wall.

Aisha commented dryly, "Dropping down into a soft flower bed to escape. Done it m'self a hundred times when I was a kid." She shrugged, "Hope she ain't damaged my Azaleas."

Benikage said, "I can track her easily. I will follow and return her to her teacher's care."

Dixie said, somewhat grudgingly, "Is there any chance you could stay and help us sort out this goddamn crazy plot and that goddamn crazy doctor. You being a super secret agent, and a ninja and all."

Benikage said, glancing at Reiko, "I'm sorry, but I cannot."

Aisha asked, "Why the hell not?"

"I have broken the ninja code, even if I did so to prevent a great evil. All such are hunted down without mercy. There will be no hiding place for me anywhere for long. If I stayed, I might only bring trouble."

"If you have to go, you have to go." Reiko sounded bleak. Dixie looked at her sharply. With a trace of longing in her voice, Reiko continued, "Is there any chance you'll be back sometime?"

Benikage considered, then smiled. "Have no fear. The shadow returns when the flames of evil flicker. Until then …" She traced the air in a complex gesture of farewell. There was a bright flash, followed by smoke, and when it cleared, she had vanished.

"So, she's gone," Dixie didn't sound very disappointed. Reiko said nothing.

"Can't she walk out the door like a normal person?" Aisha complained. "All that smoke's gonna dirty ma curtains."

"Well you're just gonna havta get them cleaned up," Dixie retorted. "Like the rest of this _hacienda_." Her voice suddenly full of concern, she continued, "I done forgot! Gotta get that face wound of yours attended to, Reiko. If we can get ya ta hospital before it starts healin', it won't scar so bad and then with a li'l plastic surgery, ya'll look good as new."

"No sweat," Reiko said. "Actually, I prefer it like this."

Dixie turned to examine Reiko closely. She took a step back.

"Hell, no," she said.

Reiko had a strange, faraway look in her eyes. She said, "I'm sorry Dixie."

"NOOO!" Dixie lifted her arms, as if appealing against inexorable fate. Then she said desperately, "You overcame it, didn't you? I thought you had it under control."

"No, I didn't." Reiko's voice seemed drained of emotion. She sat down in the middle of the floor, looking up at Dixie in a world-weary fashion.

"But …"

"All I did," continued Reiko bitterly, "was to prevent myself falling under Dr. Cutter's influence. To keep hold of my purpose. Not that …" she added in the same cynical tone, "it matters much now."

"But you helped to defeat her." Dixie was vehement. "You, your original self, its still there. You can change back, just like me and Aisha."

Reiko shook her head. "No, I can't."

"Yes, you can." There were tears in Dixie's eyes. "YES, YOU CAN!"

"Yeah, like she says," Aisha added uncomfortably. "We're both of us fine now, ain't we? Well, ain't we?"

Reiko face took on an expression of bored impatience. She said, "Look, I'm only gonna explain this once, but simply, so even Miss Brain of America here can understand it."

"Why, ya li'l …" Aisha began in outrage.

"Shut up, cain't ya?!" Dixie thundered. Then more calmly, "Go on, Reiko."

Reiko turned to look straight ahead, as though thinking back. She said, "I told Dr Cutter, or rather Anesthesia, that I'd avoided the nightmares which the black roses had given to almost everyone else. She tried to pretend that wasn't important, but I could tell she was lying. The roses must have been intended to bring you under her control, to make you into her miserable stooges. Later on Dr Cutter tried to make up for this by giving me a massive dose of the drug. But I was damned if I was gonna let anyone boss me ever again, and certainly not that bitch. You, on the other hand, couldn't resist because she'd been slowly poisoning your minds."

Aisha said dubiously, "I guess that kinda makes sense. But all it needed was a good beating to get us back to our own selves."

Reiko gave a snigger. "You think so, do you? Well maybe you should be asking yourselves _why _it was so easy."

Aisha said, "I ain't followin' ya, now, girl."

Reiko smiled sardonically. "Slow then, aren't you, Miss Double Platinum? It was easy, because Sista A and Sergeant Clemets weren't so far removed from the two reprobates I see here before me."

"What you talkin' about?!" If Aisha's anger was a volume control, it would have been turned to eleven. "That Sista bitch was like a complete arsehole!"

"That …" smirked Reiko, "is exactly the point, of course. And they say it's hard to see yourself as others see you!"

Dixie grabbed hold of Aisha before the nearly incandescent singer could express her rage more explicitly.

"Let's say you might be right on that one, Reiko," she muttered, struggling to hold back Aisha. "We're neither of us boy scouts for sure. But why is it different for you?"

"Well there's more than one reason, Dix'." Reiko folded her arms. "See, you and Aisha have still got roots in your old selves, you've got something to go back to. Aisha's got her six or seven mansions and crappy records, you've got that smelly cattle ranch and Makoto, of course, has that senile old fool of a grandfather. I, on the other hand, have nothing and nobody whatsoever."

Aisha's anger level had gone completely off the scale, but she was prevented from further comment by Dixie kneeing her in the stomach.

"Nothing?" There was a break in the Texan's voice. "No one?"

"I'm afraid not, Dixie." Reiko gave a smile which seemed a little sad. "No, please don't offer any protestations of your affection, because you'll be talking to the wrong woman."

"I'm talking to you, Reiko." Dixie spoke loud and clear. "I love you, more than I've ever loved anybody."

"Hey …" Aisha gasped.

"That's certainly very touching, Dix'." Reiko sounded anything but touched. "But unfortunately the person you knew as Reiko Hinomoto doesn't exist anymore."

"Yes, she does." Dixie sounded like she was trying to convince herself. "I _know _she does."

"You see …" there may have been the faintest of catches in Reiko's voice; "… Reiko Hinomoto was at bottom a sweet, innocent girl, who believed everything would turn out for the best. Oh she could be streetwise, sexy and even strong at times, she was no Makoto. But in the end, she could never accept that she'd been betrayed by everyone she loved, including her own mother and sister."

"Reiko." Dixie addressed her as if talking to a child. "I told ya everythin' Dr Cutter would say to ya would be lies. I told ya she was like the devil. Your mother would never have abandoned ya. Neither did Fujiko. Neither have I."

"No, you're wrong." Reiko's conviction was absolute. "Dr Cutter spoke the purest truth, and once I took the drug it became completely clear to me. My mother never loved me for myself; I became part of her ambition to succeed, just like Fujiko did. And Fujiko hated me because she saw I'd accepted my role in life, like a mindless doll. That's why she left. And you …" Reiko looked down to avoid Dixie's pleading eyes. "You believed I was my mother reborn. And I thought you were the mother I never really had. But we were both wrong."

"No, Reiko." It was all Dixie could muster.

"And so …" Reiko continued, as if Dixie hadn't spoken, "when the good, innocent Reiko met her other self, the one who had always suspected the truth, but had been locked away like a neglected child in an attic, the old Reiko was shattered into a thousand pieces. Because innocence, once lost, is destroyed forever."

There was a dead silence while the other two absorbed the impact of these words. Reiko got to her feet, and refolded her arms, regarding her erstwhile companions cynically. Her eyes locked with Dixie's, but this time it was the Texan who looked away.

"Ain't arguing with ya on that one, ho'," Aisha finally managed. "You is the skankiest bitch in town, and I _know _what I'm sayin'."

"Shut your trap and lemme think a moment, will ya?" Dixie was frowning with intense concentration. Then she said, "No, I won't give this up. Listen Reiko, or whoever you are now. Ya'll got bitter 'cos ya think things haven't gone well for ya, people ain't treated ya right. Welcome to the adult world, sugar. You've learned that good people can have a horrible, dark side they prefer not to think about, that they can sometimes hurt those they love. Wake up and smell the coffee. Like I've always said, your saints can as easily become your sinners. That's just the way things go. Sure I might not've acknowledged myself what an evil bitch I kin be in the ring. I guess I havta now. I'm doing it. But that doesn't mean ya'll should give up on everything that's true and righteous and holy. You've grown up a little, that's all. And maybe you'll never be quite the same again. Deal with it, darlin'. C'mon, let's drop this pile of crap and go home."

There was another pause, and Aisha looked up hopefully. Then Reiko began a slow handclap. Dixie stood there while she did it, staring straight ahead, her chest heaving.

"Bravo, great speech Dix'! I see a new career for you in film or television. You'll have them weeping in the aisles. The trouble is, you mistook me for someone who still cares. Evil? Good? It's all the same garbage. Go home, you say? There's no home for me anywhere. Reiko Hinomoto had a home, and people she thought cared about her. I don't have any place to go.

I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm leaving. I'll be on that highway until maybe I find someone who's lost everything like me, who accepts me for who I am without any bullshit.

Just give it up, won't you? You can see I don't give a damn anymore and, to be quite clear about it, I don't care jack about you. I'm going now." She dropped her mobile to the floor. "And I won't be needing this."

Dixie said, "I won't let you leave." She barred Reiko's exit, her feet planted firmly apart.

Reiko raised one fist, and the new-grown muscle rippled along her arm as she flexed it. "Do you really think you can stop me?" She gave a hollow laugh. "You know, maybe you would've had a chance. Three Count Cowgirl, she never gives up, does she? Except that you don't have it in you anymore, do you? Your guts have all gone along with your heart. You'd be humiliating yourself for nothing. _Stand aside_."

Reiko's voice rang out like iron. Dixie bowed her head. She stepped back to let the Japanese woman walk past. As she did so, Dixie asked brokenly, "Will I ever see ya again?"

Reiko stopped to look over her shoulder. She said, "I should think so. You've got something hanging on your wall that belongs to me. I'll be back to collect it sometime." She turned and walked down the grand staircase.

Dixie ran over to the window. Below she saw Reiko go over to her motorcycle, wind her white scarf around her neck, shrug herself into her black leather jacket, mount up. She revved the engine repeatedly, until it whined like a soul in torment. It seemed then as if she paused to look up, but the Texan couldn't be sure. The musical horn sounded in several tones, and the next moment the bike had roared away into the night. Dixie stared until long after the red taillight had vanished into the darkness.

Aisha watched her a little anxiously. Then she asked, "So how's it going, sista?"

Dixie ignored the question, and seemed to be talking more to herself. "She said she's comin' back. For the belt. Well, fine. 'Cos when she does I'm gonna tan her hide so good she won't know who she's supposed to be from one moment to the next. That should fix things pretty good, one way or another."

"That's the spirit, Dix'!" Aisha declared enthusiastically. "That smart mouthed bitch deserves a sound thrashing anyways!"

The Texan began to walk away towards the stairs, ignoring Aisha. Not taking the hint, the singer followed at her elbow. "Well, it's just us two left," she continued blithely. "Like old times for sure."

Dixie turned long enough to give her a discouraging stare. "What you talkin' about, Aisha?" she growled. "There is no _us _anymore."

"Now doan take like that, Dix', old girl!" Aisha refused to be intimidated. "I mean, what ya gonna do for a tag partner now Miss Sour Puss has taken herself outa the runnin'?"

"Aisha, unless I dreamt it, we kicked your arse outa the tournament." Dixie began descending the stairs.

"Hell, that ain't nothin' to worry about! I'll just have me a li'l word with the committee. You'll see, _Rodeo Drive'_ll be back in action in no time."

From the room above, the sound of twin sets of footsteps pattering down the stairs could be heard. On the floor lay two discarded masks and a mobile phone. The two voices echoed up from below, becoming fainter all the time.

"The day any of that'll happen they'll be readying me for ma coffin. So don't be getting any ideas …"

"Dix' c'mon!"

"Quit yer hollerin'. Sounds like your latest CD to be sure."

"Now you've really done it!"

"Aw, just lemme be!"

"Don't you walk away from me! Cowgirl, you get back here! Dix'? Dix'!"

The voices died away, leaving the mansion in silence, moonlight forming a pool around the three objects that remained. Then Reiko's phone began to play _Junction Rainy Blue_.

* * *

"Whoa!" Candy Cane threw her hands in front of her face with exaggerated melodrama. "How did you sneak up on me like that, dude?"

Benikage considered whether the question was meant seriously, then decided it was rhetorical. She said, "You need not fear me."

Shaking her head, Candy said wonderingly, "Maybe I should if you're gonna keep doing that." She stretched herself, pulling the black PVC suit tight across her breasts.

The ninja was somewhat taken aback by the teenager's facetious tone. Her recent experiences must surely have been traumatic. She continued to speak in what she hoped would be a reassuring manner. "I will not harm you. I am an enemy to your enemy."

Candy gave her what she knew her teacher would call an 'old fashioned look'. "You sure talk like someone in a Kung Fu movie." She conjured up a grin. "I guess that figures. Well, Miss Spencer taught us a saying about your enemy's enemy being your friend. Is that what you're trying to tell me? 'Cos I'm a little short on friends right now."

_Friends? _Benikage had barely got used to the idea that she might have _friends_. Treason on every hand looked to have ended that dream forever. Her masters' treachery, leading to her own betrayal of her clan. The transformation into a stranger of the person she had come to care most about. How could she trust or be trusted by anyone? But however crushed into the dust they might appear, dreams seemed to have the ability to spring up anew. _Perhaps so they can be trampled down again, _she thought bitterly.

She said, "I am here to help you. I can escort you to your teacher. She has been looking for you, and will take you under her protection."

"Miss Spencer?" Candy sounded incredulous. "She came after me? Well that beats everything!" Her expression became thoughtful. "I never realised she cared for me so much."

_It is for the best, of course, that she is with someone familiar after her ordeals. Even if …._

Aloud she said, "She has encountered … difficulties, and even suffering in her search. She will need you as much as you need her."

Candy made a sour face. She said, "Look I'm grateful to her and all for trying. She's a good lady, at bottom. But, seriously, she's also an awful square. She'll be keelhauling me back to school and, man, am I jacked off with it. Why can't people just let me do the things I want?"

"Then your family …"

"My _foster _parents are even worse jerks. I tell you, I'm better off on my own."

_She does not understand what that truly means._

Candy looked Benikage up and down, in a peculiarly calculating way. She asked, "So, what, are you a real ninja, or just a freak who looks like one?"

_She's making me smile when I have almost nothing to laugh about._

"I am a ninja no longer. I have broken from my organisation, and now they will hunt me down to punish me."

"You mean kill you, don't you? I bet those guys don't take any prisoners. Or if they do, it's so they can … hang you up by your toes over a slow fire, or something." Candy's imagination seemed fired up. "Gee, so you're on the run, a fugitive? How cool is that!"

_She has watched too many movies; she is little more than a girl._

"I will soon be in great danger, and so will you, if you remain with me. That is why I must deliver you to someone who will care for you."

Candy's red lips shaped themselves into a stubborn line. "No way, dude, you're not _delivering _me to anyone."

"But … what else can I do?"

Suddenly changing tack, Candy adopted a softer wheedling tone. She said, "You can take me with you, of course."

_What is this madness?_

"I tell you, you will be in great peril as long as you are with me."

Candy shook her head again sceptically, mimicking the ninja's voice. "Well it looks like I'm gonna be 'in great peril' anyway. Do you really think that whack nurse is gonna leave any of us alone? And where's the first place she's gonna look for me? Home and school."

Benikage paused to consider. The girl certainly had a clear way of thinking.

"Nevertheless …"

Pushing her argument like a lawyer cross-examining a witness, Candy continued, "Isn't it better that I'm with someone who knows the score, who can handle herself, can teach me to protect myself better?"

_Teach? I could do this, yet she is perhaps too old to begin the full training._

"Not that I'm exactly helpless right now."

_The way she jumped from the window, landing without harm to herself …_

With the air of someone catching a sudden inspiration, Candy said excitedly, "And who are they all going to be looking for? A circus-show act and a red headed punk? But not a mother and her cute blonde daughter."

_She has the kind of low cunning for which we were rightly feared and despised._

Benikage laughed suddenly. "Or even a daughter with her _father_."

Their eyes met, for the first time in accord, as though a partnership had been formed.

Candy said, "Ninja are masters of disguise, right?"

Benikage nodded, "It is true."

Candy said, "We could go anywhere, be whoever we wanted to be."

_Perhaps even live something like a normal life?_

"Then when they've forgotten about us, we'll make that creep pay!"

_Revenge. It is a new thing for me. To make Dr Cutter suffer, to utterly defeat and humiliate her. How sweet that sounds._

Benikage felt herself coming to a decision. But she said only, "Do you know how to write poetry?"

Candy said, "I guess. Miss Spencer has given us enough lessons."

_She has chosen this. When did anyone ask me what I truly wanted?_

Stretching herself, and shrugging back her shoulders, the girl walked a few steps away from Benikage, looking around her reflectively.

"Gee, you could write a cool poem right now. I mean, look at the moon. It's like a great white boat, floating in a dark storm. And the light falling on the cypresses, like silver poured over black bones. The sound of the night breeze whispering in their leaves. You know, I think I prefer the darkness more than the daytime."

"So do I," said Benikage, and smiled.

* * *

_Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,_

_I will fear no evil, for thou art with me …_

_Psalm 23, verse 4._

THE END

* * *

*Goalkeepers may not, as Camu suggested, fear the penalty, but authors often fear the ending. This may be because it's almost inevitable that some readers will be disappointed by it. For the consolation of those of you who are, and for the edification of the rest, I present this short meditation on the fate of the two main characters, explaining something of the reasoning behind it.

_Reiko Hinomoto/Rowdy Reiko_: Reiko has learnt a lot about herself and her relationships with others during the course of the story. But this knowledge has been hard to acquire and even harder to take on board. It has not brought her happiness. For her to return to her previous life with Dixie would be impossible in the short run, and she is faced with a long and difficult road before there's any hope of a turning.

_Benikage/Yasha_: Like Reiko, she has learned much, in particular how to appreciate life outside of her calling as a ninja and, with Reiko's help, to reconnect with her deepest feelings. While she has suffered what might seem the ultimate betrayal, her experiences have allowed her to adapt to the new situation. Denied a happy ending with Reiko, her unexpected partnership with Candy Cane gives her a chance of a new and emotionally richer life.

For those who might be hoping that some of the loose ends will be tied up, I have to tell you that I've no plans for another sequel. However I would not be surprised to find myself writing more Rumble Roses fics in the future.

As is customary, I would like to thank all my reviewers, including one who felt he couldn't bear to read to the end. I hope he will eventually manage to do so in his own good time.*


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